


The Course of True Love

by Emospritelet



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Belle not being honest with herself, F/M, Makeup Sex, Oh yeah more angst, Rumple being honest, Smut, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 01:33:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7870354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emospritelet/pseuds/Emospritelet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on BTS spoiler pics for 6x04.  Rumple and Belle fight, and she goes to his shop to try to resolve the issue.  The outcome is not one she expected.  This may or may not be me working out my frustrations with the writers.  Winner of Best Angst: Hurts So Good in The Espenson Awards 2017</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so apparently the best use of rampant insomnia was to take the BTS Rumbelle fight pics and imagine how I could make that scene approximately ten times worse.
> 
> I don’t expect any of this to transpire in the show, by the way (mainly because it would involve extensive Rumbelle talking and the wrongs done by writer favourites being acknowledged in canon. I also wouldn't want it to happen in the show, because our babies have been through enough, but I was in the mood to write angst, so you all have to suffer.

He was angry

She had seen him angry before, of course, but it was never directed at her.  Not since the Dark Castle, anyway, when she had freed Robin.  Oh, he had shouted when she had been in danger, when her impulsiveness put her in harm’s way.  When he was afraid for her.  He had shouted then.  But not like this.  

“Stay, then!” he snapped at her.  “Stay on that mouldering dump of a ship as long as you want, I’m _done_!”

He swept the flat of his hand through the air, a cutting, sweeping slice, and turned on his heel, coat flying open in the stiff breeze.  She opened her mouth to speak, to shout, but he took all of two steps away from her before turning back, one finger raised.

“Actually, no, I’m not done!” he spat.  “How dare you!  How _dare_ you even _suggest_ that our child would not be safe with me!  Don’t you think I’d tear the world apart to protect it if I had to?”

“That’s what scares me!” she said.  “Don’t you understand?”

“So you don’t trust me?” he said flatly.  “You don’t trust me to protect you and the child, despite asking me to do whatever it took to save you both back in the Underworld?”

“I know the lengths you go to, Rumple, that’s the point!” she pleaded.  “I don’t want you to keep giving in to the darkness!  I don’t want that for our baby, can’t you see that?”

“Right now, all I can see is that you seem hell-bent on undermining _everything_ I’m trying to do!” he shouted.  “If you came to the house, even to the shop, I could protect you!  You’d be safe there!  But no.  No, you’d rather be best pals with the man who repeatedly tried to kill us both!  With people who don’t care whether you live or die!  With _Zelena_ , of all people!”

“She’s changed!” insisted Belle, and he let out a mocking, humourless laugh.

“Oh, right, she’s _changed_!” he said, in a tone of dry amusement.  “Zelena’s changed.  Hook’s changed.  They say one nice thing, do one good deed any decent fucking human being would do, and bam!”  He slapped his palms together with a crack, making her jump.  “Instant redemption!”  

He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling beneath the silk shirt, his eyes flashing with dark fire, and she felt the same pull she always had, that low-down clench in her abdomen, that need to touch him.

“Not me, though,” he went on, gesturing at himself.  “No, no, that’s not enough for me, is it?  Not as far as you’re concerned.  I can’t be what you wanted!”

“I wanted you to stop lying to me!” she shot back.  

 _“I told you the truth!”_ he stormed, jabbing a thumb at his chest.  “I told you I took back the power!  I told you that I loved it!  I was _honest_ with you, Belle!

“And I need you to keep on being honest!” she said obstinately.  “To talk to me, instead of going behind my back.  To be honest with me, and to not kill people.  I don’t think it’s too much to bloody ask!”

“Oh, let’s not fucking pretend you’d be happy with that!” he sneered.  “No matter what I do, it’s not enough for you.  It’s not what you want.”

“What I want is for you to be the hero I know you are!” she pleaded.  “I want you to _fight_ the darkness inside you, Rumple, not give in to it!”

“You want me to fundamentally change who I am!” he shouted.  “You want me to forgive my enemies, turn the other fucking cheek, help people who only come to me when they want something and treat me like something less than fucking human when they don’t!  You want me to pretend to care about these so-called friends of yours who were only too happy to leave me to fucking _rot_ while that _witch_ …”

He cut off, looking away, his chest heaving in his agitation, his now short hair rippling like silver grass in the sea breeze.  Pain was etched in the fine lines of his face, a tightness around his mouth and eyes, and her heart ached for him.  She wanted to touch him, to comfort him, to run her fingers through that hair.  Gods help her, she wanted to kiss him.  He grimaced, his mouth twisting, and a sigh shuddered from him.

“I’m wasting my breath,” he said, almost to himself, and met her eyes.  “Stay, then.  Be with your friends.  Go drinking with Hook when the baby’s born.  Arrange a series of playdates with fucking Zelena for all I care.  I’ll leave you alone.”

“That’s not what I’m asking!” she protested.  “I want you to help protect our baby, of course I do, but…”

He twirled the fingers of his right hand, a crimson flare of magic dancing in his palm before forming into a small, stoppered vial held between thumb and forefinger.  His expression was cold, his mouth set in a flat line.

“Protection spell,” he said abruptly.  “If you want it, of course.  Made with dark magic, but I’m afraid that’s all I know.  Disappointing, no doubt.”

She wanted to cry.  She loved him, so much, and he loved her, she knew it.  How had things gotten this _bad_?

“I’d like you to take it, but I won’t force you,” he said stiffly.  “It would put my mind at rest, if that’s something you still care about.”

He held it out to her, and after a moment’s hesitation she took it, the tips of her fingers brushing against his, the sensation sending shivers through her.  She swallowed hard, hating the atmosphere between them.  Hating that she seemed unable to fix it.

“I’ll - I’ll take it,” she said softly, and the faintest of smiles lifted the corners of his mouth.

“Our child will be born safe and well,” he said, his tone a little gentler.  “I promise you, Belle.  You’ll be safe.  Even here.”  

He gestured with disdain at the Jolly Roger, and she nodded, tucking the vial of potion in her pocket.  His face was drawn, a bitter twist to his mouth.

“Should you need anything more from me,” he went on.  “All you have to do is call my name, and I’ll come to you.  As always.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.  

He nodded somewhat impatiently, and she ran her eyes over his face as though she were committing it to memory.  His anger was gone, snuffed out like the glowing plume of his magic, but what replaced it was almost worse.  Sadness.  Loss.  Resignation.  

“Rumple…”  

She cut off, biting her lip, not knowing what to say to him, and he shook his head.

“Don’t,” he said quietly.  “Just - don’t, Belle.  I’m tired.”

He turned, his tread slow and weary as he walked away along the dock, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat, wanting to call him back.  Wanting to run to him.

 

00000

 

Belle decided that it was easier to blame the hormones.

She had cried after he left, great heaving sobs that stole her breath and made her throat sore, her eyes red and stinging from the tears.  Killian had wisely stayed out of her way, and she had wept for a long time in her narrow bunk, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them.  Why couldn’t he see that she was thinking not just of the baby, but him too?  She knew he could be the one Merlin had spoken of.  She knew he had the strength to use darkness for good.  Emma and Killian’s brief time as Dark Ones had showed her how strong he must really be to have kept the darkness under some semblance of control for so long.  He was the one!  He _had_ to be!

Sitting up, she dashed tears from her eyes with the heels of her hands, feeling desperately tired.  Being pregnant was exhausting, both physically and emotionally, she decided, and fighting with the child’s father, with her true love, only made it worse.  She wanted to share the pregnancy with him, she did, but impending motherhood made her scared of what might befall a child of the Dark One.  Not that she thought he’d ever harm the baby, of course not, but he had more enemies than anyone she knew.  Enemies who would know that he would give up anything to save his child.  She was thinking of his safety just as much as hers.

Sighing to herself, she got to her feet.  There had been too many things left unsaid in their relationship, too many times she had run rather than confront him.  She needed to explain.  He needed to know her reasons.

 

00000

 

Belle thought he was most likely to be at the shop, despite the late hour.  She hoped so.  Going to their home would hurt too much, make her more likely to fall into his arms.  Into his bed.  She donned her coat, a quick check revealing that Killian was no longer on the ship.  He was most likely with Emma, having a drink at Granny’s.  Good.  She didn’t want any company, and she certainly didn’t want anyone’s opinion on her plan to talk to her husband.

The walk to the shop was over too quickly, and she stood outside for a moment, opening and closing her fists uncertainly as she tried to gather her thoughts.  Her heart thumped as she looked through the window, clenching almost painfully when she saw him open the safe and put something inside.  Taking a deep breath, she tried the door handle, expecting to find it locked, but to her surprise the door opened, the bell jingling cheerfully as she entered.  Rumple didn’t look around.

“Hey,” she said, her mouth suddenly dry.  “It’s - it’s me.”

“Yes, I know.”  

His voice was barely a whisper.  She heard a muffled squeak, a faint clang, as he shut the door to the wall safe, turning the key in its lock.

“I thought you would have locked the shop door,” she said, with a nervous laugh.

“A spell,” he said.  “It’ll let no one enter but you.”

“Oh.”  

He had wanted her to come, then.  She was glad of it.

“I thought we should talk,” she said then.

“Oh yes?”

She frowned at his dismissive tone, as if she were an irritating distraction, a customer with whom he had no interest in dealing.

“What you said at the docks,” she began.  “I know you were upset.  Maybe you still are, but I had to come.  I didn’t want to leave things like that.”

He was silent for a moment.

“No,” he agreed.  “We should talk about it.”

He was still standing with his back to her, an odd stiffness to him, but his head was up, his shoulders back.

“Would you look at me, please?” she asked.

Rumple turned slowly on the balls of his feet, standing behind the shop counter.  She missed his long hair, the way it had framed his face, the way the light had gleamed on it.  But he was handsome like this, too, his skin warm in the light from the lamps, his eyes deep and dark.  His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and she wanted to kiss him there, to feel the heat of his skin and the roughness of stubble against her lips, as she had so many times before.  How long had it been since they had made love?  Not since the baby was conceived, she supposed.  Too long.  She was surprised by the sudden rush of desire that surged through her, stealing her breath, making a flush rise in her cheeks.  He was watching her with a flat, emotionless expression on his face, and she hated it, hated that she wanted him so, so much and he just - stood there.

“You’re different,” she said quietly.

“Yes.”

His voice was soft, and somehow cold.  She missed its usual cadence, the warmth she would hear when he spoke her name, as though he were holding it in his mouth like cotton candy, letting it melt across his tongue as he gave it form.

“What happened in the Underworld,” she began.  “You were right.  It was a stupid thing to do, to curse myself like that, but I was scared.  It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you, it was just…”

“But you _didn’t_ trust me,” he interrupted.  “I told you I would fix everything, but you didn’t trust me to.  You went to Zelena.  In some misguided hope that motherhood would turn her into your friend, you went to her.  Not me.”

Belle sighed, guilt pricking at her.  He was right.  She hadn’t trusted him.  Still didn’t, if she was brutally honest with herself.  There was too much pain there.  Too much heartache.  She wished she could fix it.

“Zelena and I aren’t friends,” she said.  “And honestly, I’m not sure we ever could be, but…”

“You do know what she did to me, right?” he said quietly.  “I mean, you don’t know all of it, but still.  You know she kept me caged like an animal.  Took my free will, made me…”  He cut off, his head dropping a little.  “Well, perhaps it doesn’t matter,” he whispered.  “Perhaps I deserved it.”

God, he was hurting!  She wanted to hold him, to breathe in his scent, feel the familiar warmth of his body against hers.

“Of course you didn’t,” she said thickly, her throat tightening as tears started to form.

“Bae, though,” he said, still looking at the counter.  “I thought you might care about what she did to Bae.”

“Oh, Rumple!” she said sadly, and he shrugged.

“But I expect that’s not what you want to talk about,” he said.  “And to be honest, neither do I.  You want to talk about the decision you’ve made regarding our child.”

She didn’t miss the gentle accusation in his words, and frankly she couldn’t blame him for it.

“I want you to be as much a part of this child’s life as I will be,” she said.  “But the Dark Curse, Rumple.  The Dark One.  I don’t want the darkness anywhere near our baby, don’t you understand?  After everything you lost, after everything you’ve been through, surely you can see that?”

He sighed, his head dropping further, but then squared his shoulders, straightening up, his eyes fixed on her.  His hands were poised on the counter, long fingers tented on polished wood..

“There’s darkness in me, Belle,” he said softly.  “Like it or not, it’s part of who I am, etched into my bones.  And I’m okay with that.  I’ve accepted it.  You haven’t.  Can’t.  I don’t blame you for that.”

He was so calm, so terribly controlled, and the pain of it was slowly killing her.

“A part of you is drawn to the darkness,” he added.  “A part of you likes it.  And until you accept that, you won’t accept me.”

“That’s not why I love you!” she said sharply.  “I love the man I know you are inside.  I love you _despite_ the darkness, not because of it!”

Rumple sucked in his cheeks a little, as though he were trying to stop himself from laughing.  He glanced away, mouth quirking a little before looking back at her.

“I’m not going to push you, Belle,” he said gently.  “And the last thing I want to do is hurt you.  But I’m done apologising for who I am.”

“But - but - it’s _not_ who you are!” she persisted, taking a step forward.  “It’s the curse!  I know that!  Like I know you can _fight_ it!  You can _beat_ it!  You can be the man that Merlin spoke of, Rumple, you _can_!”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling, and for a moment she thought that he would come to her.  That he would walk out from behind the counter and take her in his arms, tell her she was right.  Tell her he believed it too.  But there was sorrow in his eyes, a resigned sadness that made her heart thump in fear.

“You always saw the good in me,” he said softly.  “You made me want to be better.  I loved you for that.  I’ll always love you, Belle.”

She shook her head, as though by that action she could stop him speaking, stop him saying something else that sounded too much like goodbye.

“But my best isn’t enough for you,” he went on, his expression gentle, the soft look in his eyes that she saw only when he looked at her.  “And that’s okay, really.”

“I never said that,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

“But it isn’t,” he repeated.  “I know you wanted to change me, to save me.  But I never needed saving, Belle.  I see that now.  I accept it.”

“I just…”  She broke off, raising her eyes to the ceiling.  Tears were stinging, blurring her vision, and she blinked hard, letting them run down her cheeks.  “It wasn’t only that.”

“I know.”  

He was watching her with calm indifference, and it made her want to scream.

“I wanted to be _yours_ , Rumple,” she whispered.  “I wanted to be chosen.  To know I meant more to you than the power.”

“You do,” he said gently.  “But you’re asking me to make a choice I shouldn’t have to make.”

“I’m not!” she protested.  “That’s why I didn’t ask you to lift the sleeping curse!  That’s why…”

“I tried.”

The words were spoken so softly she could hardly hear them, and she blinked in surprise.

“Wh - what?”

He shifted his feet a little, staring at her with that maddening calmness.

“I tried,” he repeated.  “When your father refused to wake you, I kissed you.  Didn’t work.”

It felt as though an invisible hand had closed around her heart, squeezing the life from it, and for a moment all she could do was stare at him.  How could that be true?  How could his kiss not have woken her, when she loved him so much it burned?

"Why didn't you tell me?" she breathed.

"I'm telling you now."

Belle shook her head, trying to understand what his words meant, dreading the inevitable conclusion.

“True love can’t just fade away!” she said.

“It can.”  God, his voice was so _cold_!  “It can if you let it.”

She swallowed, her throat sticking.  It felt as though her entire body was filled with tears, waiting to spill over and drown her.

“Wh - what are you saying?” she stammered.

“True love is the most powerful magic of all,” he said.  “But it’s never easy, Belle.  It must be fought for.”

He shifted, one hand grasping the other, and her eyes widened, a sharp pain lancing through her chest as he pulled the ring from the third finger of his left hand.  He bounced it on his palm, the heavy gold band gleaming in the light.

“You stopped wearing yours a long time ago,” he said quietly.  “I’ve been holding onto hope.  Holding on for so long now…”  He cut off, dropping his eyes for a moment, and glanced back up at her, holding up the ring in the palm of his hand.  “Sometimes, you need to know when to let go.”

She shook her head, wanting to take a step back.  Wanting to turn and run from him, so she couldn’t see what he was offering her.  Wanting to curl into a ball and weep.  Her body was frozen in place, her heart pounding.

“Please,” he said patiently.  “Please, Belle, take it.  If you ever want to give it back to me…”  He closed his eyes, smiling briefly before they flicked open.  “Well, should that day ever come, we can talk.”

“I can’t take that,” she whispered.  “Rumple, please…”

He was still holding it out, but she shook her head, and after a moment he sighed and nodded, slipping it into the pocket of his suit pants.  She stared at his hand, at the faint dent the ring had left in his skin.  A dent that would fade within the hour, all trace of their marriage gone.  She could feel herself breaking down, her body shaking, her lip trembling, and she knew she had to go.  Had to run, to leave his sight, before he could see.

“You’ll be alright,” he said.  “I promise.  I meant what I said, Belle.  If you ever need me, all you have to do is say my name.”

She couldn’t bear it.  She had to go.  Holding up a hand as though she could ward off the pain, she stumbled away, blindly groping for the door handle that would take her out of his shop, out of his life.  The bell rang, its cheerfulness a sick joke, the sound piercing her breaking heart, and she staggered out, closing the door behind her so he wouldn’t see her cry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve been sworn at quite so much XD
> 
> Okay, I said I was gonna fix it, right?  Yeah, I LIED!
> 
> I mean I'll fix it eventually, but in the meantime...

Rumple watched her go, his jaw hurting from the force with which he had kept it clenched shut.  She had been crying, even before she left the shop.  He hated to see her cry.  The gods knew he’d been the cause of her tears often enough.  No more.  He had made his decision earlier that day, when he had first heard of her plan to live apart from him, to keep her distance, to stay on that rotting heap of boards and canvas Hook called a ship.  She had rejected the power of the Dark One, had told him that she didn’t want that power near the baby.  It had hurt more than he liked to admit, but it appeared that she hadn’t believed what he had told her in the Underworld.  Not fully, certainly.  Not enough to accept it.  The power was a part of him now, as much a part of him as his blood, his breath, his soul.  In rejecting the Dark One, she had rejected him.  He supposed he couldn’t blame her.

He turned back to the safe, unlocking it with a flick of his wrist and reaching inside to retrieve what he had hidden there.  Holding the red velvet bag carefully in the palm of one hand, he teased open the woven drawstring, fingers sinking into the soft crimson folds and opening it up to reach inside.  He drew out his heart, weighing it in his hand as he looked it over.  He was unsure whether he would ever get used to seeing it like this: the deep black with the tiny bright gleam at its core had gone, replaced by warm, pulsing red.  It was as though his past sins had been washed clean away, although he knew that could never be true.  No, he would carry those to the end of his days.  The heart felt twice as heavy as its physical presence suggested, and he sighed, bracing himself as he pushed it back into his chest.

The pain was there almost immediately, loss and regret and the crushing weight of grief, and he staggered, tears welling in his eyes as he steadied himself against the shop counter.  He leant there for a moment, breathing hard, the pain like a knife in his chest.  Perhaps one day it would fade.  Perhaps he would be able to have his heart there constantly, walking around Storybrooke, going to visit his lost love and their child.  Going home to an empty house and his garden and his books.  Perhaps he would be indifferent to whomever she eventually settled down with.  Perhaps, one day, he would feel nothing for her.  He grimaced, shaking his head and rubbing at his chest with the flat of his hand as though that would ease the pain.  No, not that.  Never that.  He would always love her.  

Pushing himself upright, he shuffled through to the back room and sat down heavily on the edge of the cot.  He would try to keep his heart inside, for a little longer each day.  The pain was sharp, digging into his soul, boring its way down to the very core of him.  He would get used to it.  She had made her choice, and she had not chosen him.  As painful as that was, he accepted it.  It was better this way.

 

00000

 

Belle wasn’t sure how she made it back to the Jolly Roger, but later, when she was thinking more clearly, she would be thankful that no one in Storybrooke had seen her in such a miserable state.  She sobbed as she went, her heart breaking, seeing nothing.  The rattle of wooden boards beneath her feet made her raise her head as she stumbled onto the dock, and for a moment she stood there, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm herself.  The ship was dark and silent, the only light coming from the lanterns at prow, stern and above the set of wooden steps that led up to the deck.  Limbs shaking, she made her way up, her tread weary, and went below to find her cabin.

The wind was up, the sea rolling more than usual, and she felt sick, rubbing a hand over her belly as the ship rocked beneath her feet.  She had not suffered too badly with morning sickness, rather there was an ever-present nausea there that made her feel vile.  Perhaps it was being on the ship.  She kicked off her shoes and sat down on her bunk with a loud sigh, tears brimming in her eyes again.  He didn’t want her.  He had said that perhaps their love had faded away, that they had let it.  That _she_ had let it.  Gods, that had hurt!  And watching him take off his ring, hold it out to her as though it were a reversal of their marriage…  She sucked in a shuddering breath as she realised that was exactly what it had been.  Biting her lip, she remembered when she had held that ring, when she had slid it onto his finger as they had said their vows, how she had been filled with hope and bliss and the certainty that their love was forever.  So little time had passed since then.  So little time for all her dreams to have turned to dust and ashes around her.

She squeezed her eyes shut momentarily, before bending to reach beneath the bunk and pull out the small case she had stowed there.  Opening it up, she fumbled in an inside pocket, fingers stretching and searching until she felt a circle of cold metal.  She drew it out, watching the faint moonlight gleam dully on the diamonds set in her wedding ring.  Sliding it onto her finger, she inspected it for a moment, the feeling of having something there again a little strange.  She would take it off before sleep, slip it once more into the depths of her case where it had sat like a hidden promise, like a tiny circle of hope.  Her mouth twitched, a sad almost-smile as she pictured his face, and she lay down in the bunk, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, the ring on her finger now nothing more than gleaming white gold and pretty stones.

 

00000

 

Rumple had managed to leave his heart in for approximately four hours, which he thought was a good start.  It had hurt too much to keep it inside any longer, and so he had locked it in the safe again, vowing to himself to retrieve it a little earlier the next day.  The loss of it, and the subsequent deadening of emotions, meant that he could deal with whichever townsfolk crossed his threshold without it being too likely that he’d turn them into snails.

He had gone back to the empty house that they had shared for all-too-brief a time, had even gone to bed, although he didn’t need to sleep.  He had tried, though, lying in the darkness with his arms folded behind his head, wondering if she slept.  If she dreamed.  Wondering what her dreams might tell her, and whether they whispered lies of his intentions, his motives, his love.  He hoped that she had taken the protection spell; that at least would ensure the baby was born safe and well.  Perhaps she’d let him be there, to hold his child in his arms for a few brief, precious moments before one of the Charming clan decided it would be better that he left.  After several hours of no rest, he had risen, making his way down to his workshop in the basement to make a start to another spell.  At least that would take his mind off things until he had worked out what to do.

 

00000

 

Belle slept badly, the creaks and groans of the ship making her start awake throughout the night.  There had been noise on the deck after midnight: Killian and Emma and what sounded like two of the dwarfs, talking and laughing a little too loudly for her sensitive ears, but eventually there was blessed quiet, and she sank into a fitful sleep.  She was awake before dawn, a thin, greyish light from the deck above oozing through the tiny window in the cabin door, and she lay in the darkness, curled in her bunk with her hands pressed over her belly.  There was only the usual slight curve there, nothing to suggest to the outside world that she was pregnant, but she suspected that would soon change.  Everything would change.  She couldn’t raise the baby on a ship; she’d have to start thinking about where she could live.  Where _they_ could live.  And she’d need - things.  Maternity wear.  A crib.  Supplies.  Baby clothes.  Babies seemed to need _so much_ in this land; it was exhausting just thinking about it.  She could ask Snow White for advice, of course, and she had no doubt that Snow would be happy to help, but she had always assumed that she would raise her child with its father, that he would be there to support her, that she wouldn’t be doing this alone.

For a moment it all seemed too overwhelming, and tears brimmed in her eyes again.  Stupid bloody hormones!  She dashed them away crossly, sitting up and resting her arms on her knees as she thought.  Things would feel better if she had some breakfast.  A swift walk to Granny’s, a decent meal, and then perhaps she could do some work at the library.  There had been a delivery of books for the children’s section that needed indexing, and another box of donations which she had been meaning to sort through and stack.  It would at least take her mind off things.

Nodding decisively, she stood up, wobbling a little as the ship rolled, and clapped a hand to her mouth as her stomach lurched unpleasantly.  Yes, it would definitely be best to get off the ship.  She dressed hurriedly, pulling on tights and ankle boots and a short, patterned dress beneath her light coat, and tugged a brush through her hair.  She suspected that she looked a mess, given that she had spent most of the previous day crying, and the night trying and failing to sleep, but she couldn’t bring herself to care all that much.  Snatching up her purse, she made her way up on deck, trotting over to the steps to climb down onto the dock.

The sun was beginning to rise, orange light spreading like oil across the water, the sky an iron grey with feathered strokes of pinkish cloud near the horizon.  The air was fresh, and Belle tugged her coat around herself with a shiver as she made her way into town, hoping that the diner would be open.  She was in luck; Granny was setting the board outside just as she turned into the street, and she gave Belle a quick, searching look as she approached.

“Go sit down, I’ll bring you some breakfast,” she said abruptly, before Belle could even speak, and turned on her heel to bustle inside.

Smiling to herself, Belle followed, the warm air enveloping her as she shut the door behind her.  The diner was empty, and she really had no desire to talk to people anyway, so she slipped into a seat at one of the smaller tables, hoping any other customers would ignore her.  After a minute or two Granny set a mug of hot cocoa in front of her, the swirl of cream topped with a sprinkle of cinnamon, and Belle stuck her finger in it and licked off the cream before cradling the hot mug between cupped hands.

“I’m making you pancakes,” said Granny sternly, as though it were a punishment.  “And you eat ‘em, you hear me?”

Belle nodded hastily, and Granny sniffed and stomped off to the kitchen again, so she turned her attention back to her cocoa, fingertip spreading the cinnamon in russet swirls through the mound of white foam.  She wondered if Rumple was at the shop.  Whether he had gone home last night, or lain down on the cot in the back room.  Whether he had slept as badly as she.  Or at all.  The curse meant that he didn’t need sleep, but he could sleep, and had, when they had been together.  More often than not, however, she would wake in the dark of the night to find the bed beside her cold, to find him gone.  Sometimes she would fall asleep again, but often she would pad downstairs to the basement, to where he would be spinning with his back to the door, his long hair shining in the light of the lamps, a gleaming thread of gold spooling out as the wheel turned.

She frowned as she tried to remember when she had last seen him spin.  There was a shawl draped over the spinning wheel at the shop now; she had seen it the last time she had been in there.  The wheel hidden from view, as if it were broken, as if he were ashamed of it, and a faint trace of dust on the stool he had used, as though these things were mere curiosities in a shop filled with items that had been lost or unwanted or cast aside.  Remnants of another life.

“Belle?”

A familiar voice made her start, and she looked up with a wan smile to see Archie Hopper looking down at her, concern on his kind face.  He gestured to the seat opposite her.

“I’m just here for coffee,” he explained.  “Do you mind if I sit down for a moment?”

The honest answer was ‘yes’, but it wouldn’t have been polite, so she merely nodded, taking a sip of her cocoa as he slid into the chair, grounding his umbrella beside him, one hand folded over the handle.  Sweetness exploded across her tongue as she drank, and she almost smiled at the rich taste of the cocoa.

“How are you?” he asked gently, and she looked up, setting down her mug.

“I’m…” she began.  “Well, I’m…”  

She cut off, shrugging, and he tapped his fingers on the handle of his umbrella.

“I heard you had a - disagreement - with your husband yesterday,” he said delicately.  “If you ever need to talk to someone, either alone or as a couple, I’d be only too happy to listen.”

Belle swallowed hard, praying that she didn’t start crying again.

“We’re - we’re not a couple,” she said, the words seeming to stick in her throat.  “He - he took off his wedding ring.”  

The last few words tailed off in a whisper, and tears stung her eyes as her breath hitched.

“Ah.”  Archie was silent for a moment.  “I - I noticed that you haven’t worn yours in some time.”

“No.”

“But you’re upset that he no longer wears his.”

“Yeah.”  

It sounded ridiculous, laid bare like that.  Ridiculous and somewhat unfair.  She dashed tears away with the heel of a hand.  Her palm was hot and damp from the mug; an unpleasant sensation.  Archie nodded slowly.

“You know, I went to see him before you got married,” he said.  “After everything that happened with Zelena.  I thought it might do him some good to talk about it.”

Belle let out a hollow laugh.

“Well, good luck with that,” she said dryly.  “He wouldn’t talk to me.  Kept saying he was fine, when I knew he wasn’t.  Of course I didn’t know he’d killed her then.”  

Her voice trailed off in a whisper, and Archie nodded.

“I understand that you’ve chosen to live apart from him,” he said, and she nodded.  “But you still love him.”

“Yeah.”  Belle’s lip trembled, and Archie gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

“Belle, would you tell me what it is that makes you want to be away from him?” he asked, and she sniffed a little, wondering how much to reveal.

“It’s the dark power,” she said.  “I worry our baby wouldn’t be safe.  He has so many enemies, he’s such a target for - for _vitriol_ in this town.  It’s made me a target in the past, and I could handle that, but the thought of that happening to my child terrifies me!  I don’t want this baby taken from me or - or harmed by someone wanting to punish him.”

“But - he’s always been the Dark One,” said Archie gently.  “He was the Dark One when you married him.  That threat was always there, so what changed?”

Belle was silent for a moment, unwilling to admit that disturbing dreams in a sleeping curse had given her pause.  It sounded ridiculous even as she thought it.

“I just - he took on the power of the Dark Ones,” she said insistently, pressing the flat of her hands against the tabletop and leaning forwards.  “ _All_ the power of _every_ Dark One!  I’ve seen what dark magic does to people, what it’s done to _him_!  I can’t watch him destroy himself all over again, I can’t go through that!  That’s not what I want for our child.”

She pushed back, breathing heavily, tears welling again, and at that moment Granny arrived with a plate of pancakes, a jug of syrup and a dish of butter.  She set them in front of Belle, nodding to Archie when he ordered coffee.  Belle looked at the fluffy, golden pancakes with a sick feeling in her stomach, but Granny was watching her closely, so she spread a little butter across the first and poured some syrup over, cutting a small piece off with a fork and taking a bite.  Nodding approval, Granny bustled away to fetch Archie’s coffee, and Belle chewed, tasting nothing.

“You know that the darkness can’t be destroyed,” said Archie.

“I know that,” sighed Belle, toying with a piece of pancake.  “I don’t expect him to break his curse, what’s done is done.”

“Then what is it you want him to do?”

“I want him to be the person Merlin told us about,” said Belle.  “I want him to use the power for _good_ , to shut himself off from the darkness.  I want him to be the man I know he is, deep inside.”

“And what does he say?” asked Archie.  Belle shrugged uncomfortably.

“He says - he says - that a part of me _likes_ the darkness.”  She swallowed, not wanting to give the words form.  “He says I - I like that part of him, but that I won’t accept that.”

“And what do you think?” asked Archie, and Belle shook her head.

“That’s not what a hero does,” she said defiantly.  “A hero works for _good_.  A hero works _against_ the darkness.”

Archie leaned forwards a little.

“A hero does what’s _right_ , and protects other people ahead of themselves,” he said.  “But heroes come in many shapes and sizes, Belle.  Those whom we might call bad people can still do heroic things, and good people can do terrible things.  Heroism doesn’t just deal in extremes.”

“I know that,” she said, after a pause.  “I do.  It’s just - after everything that happened.  With Emma, with the fairies…  He _lied_ to me, over and over, and I didn’t see it!  It was like I didn’t even _know_ him!”

Archie smiled, dropping his eyes a little before looking back up at her.

“Is that what this is about?” he asked.  “Is it that you’re scared to let him in again, that you don’t trust you own judgement?  It’s perfectly natural to be cautious when you’ve been hurt by someone.”

"That - that could be part of it," she admitted.  "But it's not just that.  He  _was_ a hero.  He pulled Excalibur from the stone.  His heart was clean!  He defeated Hook when he was the Dark One, and he did all that without the power.  And yet he  _willingly_ took it back!"

"Have you asked him why he feels he needs it?" asked Archie, and she pulled a face.

"He says he loves the power," she said.  

"And do you think that's the only reason?" pressed Archie.

Belle was silent, poking at her pancakes with the fork.  Granny stomped over, setting down Archie’s coffee and giving Belle a narrow-eyed look before going back to the kitchen.  Archie tried again.

“When I asked you what you thought about his suggestion that you liked the dark part of him,” he said.  “You said that that wasn’t what a hero did.  That didn’t really answer my question.  What do you feel about that part of him?”

Belle shrugged, not liking the question, and Archie nodded, as though he sensed not to push it.  There was silence for a moment, and she cut another piece of pancake to give her hands something to do, mopping up some syrup and popping it into her mouth.  Her throat wanted to close up around it, but eventually she swallowed.  Archie waited in silence, sipping his coffee, and she felt the pain that she had held deep in her chest since the previous evening rise up through her, wanting her to give it form and life.

“When I went to see him last night, he was - different,” she said, in a low voice.  “We’ve argued before, we’ve split up before, but not like this.  He’s always been so - so emotional.  Tearful.  But he was so calm.  Like it didn’t even _matter_.  Like he didn’t feel _anything_ for me.”

Archie nodded slowly.

“And those previous times,” he asked tentatively.  “The times you were separated.  Whose decision was that?”

“I - well - mine, I guess,” said Belle.

“And this time it was his.”

“Um…”  She blinked, unsure what he was driving at.  “Yeah.”

He took a sip of his coffee, and Belle looked down at her hands, at the third finger of her left hand where she had put her wedding ring back on for a few brief hours before sleep.  It looked too fragile, too bare and pale, and she clenched her fist so she wouldn’t have to see it.

“He said - he said that true love can fade away,” she whispered, feeling tears sting her eyes once more.  “That it had to be fought for.  That sometimes you need to know when to let go.  I’m - I’m _not ready to let go_!”

He lip wobbled, tears brimming up and falling down her cheeks, and Archie squeezed her hand again.

“True love isn’t easy, Belle,” he said softly.  “Nothing worth having ever is.  It needs honesty, on all sides.  Forgiveness, and understanding.  And the realisation that no one is perfect, and that no one has to be for love to endure.  That applies to both parties, not just one.”  

He gave her a meaningful look, and Belle dropped her eyes, stabbing at her pancakes again.  Archie drained his coffee and set down the cup with a clink, pushing himself to his feet with the help of his umbrella.

“I’ll leave you alone to eat your breakfast,” he said.  “That offer still stands.  For both of you.  Come and see me anytime.”

She nodded, wanting him to leave so that he wouldn’t see her cry.  She could see his legs through a blurred veil of tears, and as he walked away she blinked, dropping her fork and pushing back her chair to run to the bathroom, where she could cry in peace.

 

00000

 

Her day didn’t improve when she left the diner.  Granny had sighed as she saw the barely-touched pancakes, and insisted on giving her a paper bag with sandwiches and lemon cake to take with her.  Belle had promised to eat them, and intended to keep the promise.  The baby needed food, even if she didn’t.  She made her way to the library, giving listless greetings to those she passed, and felt nothing but relief as she let herself into the cool darkness beneath the clock tower.  She set the paper bag and her purse down on the desk, and went through to the small room behind to start going through the books.  Her quiet solitude lasted all of ten minutes.

“Oh good, you’re here.”  

Regina’s businesslike tone cut through her thoughts, and she straightened up with a sigh, walking back through to the circulation desk, behind which stood the entire Mills-Charming clan.  Plus hangers-on.

“We need your help,” Regina continued.  “Mr Hyde appears to have joined forces with a new enemy.”

“Who?” asked Belle.  

Hyde had announced that he was in charge of the town, and had taken up residence in the Mayor’s office, which had irked Regina no end, but as far as she could see he hadn’t done anything too terrible yet.  Regina pulled a face.

“The Evil Queen.” she said stiffly.  “It appears that the worst parts of myself and good Doctor Jekyll have found a common interest in tormenting the residents of this town.”

“So we need you to help with some research,” put in David.  “A way to neutralise the dark half of someone, to take away their power.”

Belle blinked.

“I don’t even know if that’s possible,” she said.  “This isn’t a - a spirit, or a demon we’re talking about.  This is a part of who you are inside, Regina.  What if neutralising her destroys you?”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” said Zelena dryly.  “But apparently no one wants to listen to me.  We need to find another way.  A binding spell would at least buy us some time.”

“There has to be something,” said Emma, running a hand through her hair.  “Belle, please!  We’re running out of time!  You know more about dark power than anyone.”

“Well, that’s not strictly true, is it?” said Hook, turning to her.  “What about the crocodile?”

Belle’s breath hitched, and Hook turned back to her.

“Gold won’t help,” said Regina dismissively.  “He already told me separating the two halves of myself wouldn’t work.  I _hate_ it when that bastard’s right!”

“Then he must know something that will,” said Emma grimly.  “Belle, would you go ask him?  He’ll listen to you, at least.”

She couldn’t speak.  She shook her head, lower lip trembling.  Henry put his head to the side a little, his gaze calculating.  Hook rolled his eyes.

“Look, I know you two had a bit of a lovers’ tiff yesterday, but the whole town knows you’ve got the Dark One on a leash,” he said.  

The words stabbed at her, leaving her breathless, and she pressed a hand to her heart.  Was that what they _thought_?

“Belle, are you okay?” asked Henry worriedly, and she let out a sob and ran out, slamming the door behind her.

“Great,” said Regina under her breath, and rounded on Hook.  “The one person who could possibly help us, and you chase her away!  Remind me what use you are again, beyond making empty threats and distracting the Saviour with your dubious charms?”

“Hey!” snapped Emma.  “Killian is helping just as much as anyone else!”

“Oh, really?”  Regina put her hands on her hips.  “Well, from where I’m standing all he’s done since he got back from hell is trail around after you like a whipped dog!  I’m sick of him getting under my feet!”

“Alright, that’s enough!” said Snow sharply.  “We need to figure this out.  Zelena, you mentioned a binding spell?”

“It’ll hold them for a while,” shrugged Zelena.  “I’d need some help, I suppose.  A bit of light magic wouldn’t go amiss.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Regina, calming slightly.  “I suppose someone should go talk to Belle.”

“I’ll go,” said Henry, and Emma squeezed his shoulder.

“Then I guess I’ll talk to Gold,” she said reluctantly.  “If he’s been fighting with Belle, helping us would be a way to make it up to her, right?”

“It’s worth a shot,” nodded David.  “Although I’m not sure I like using Belle’s marital problems like that.”

“Omelettes and eggs, mate,” said Hook, and Emma gave him a look.

“Well, maybe he’ll make a deal with me for something,” she suggested, and tugged Hook’s sleeve.  “Come on.  Let’s go find him.”

“We’ll start researching,” said Snow.  “Regina?  See you back here later?”

“When we have something to report, yes,” said Regina dryly.  “In the meantime, if the Evil Queen shows up, just tell her where I am.  It’s me she has a problem with.”

Snow and David exchanged a look.

“I’m - not sure that’s completely true,” said Snow.  “The last time I saw the - Evil Queen - she had a _big_ problem with me.  I doubt being free of a calming influence has improved her mood.”

“I know that!” snapped Regina, tossing her hair as she began to pace.  “I’ll figure something out, okay?  I won’t let her hurt my family!”

“Well, I suppose that signals our exit,” said Zelena brightly.  “Come on, sis.  Let’s go and make some magic.”

The two disappeared in a mingled cloud of green and purple, and Henry took the opportunity to slip out of the library door to track down Belle.

 

00000

 

Rumple had had a productive morning.  He had been working on a complex spell, and had enjoyed the mental challenge it had provided.  It felt good to lose himself in hours of work, to feel the satisfaction of achieving what he wanted through his own skill and intelligence, and by the time the clock struck ten, he felt far enough along in his progress to get some breakfast.  He shrugged on his coat and made his way to the diner, the breeze rippling through his hair.  It was odd, this new sensation.  For more than three hundred years his hair had been long, and he felt strange without it.  Not to mention a little cold.  He supposed he would get used to it, would accept it.  He had grown to accept many things he didn’t like, over the years.

Storybrooke residents skirted around him as he walked, his coat flapping open in the wind, and he pushed open the door to the diner with a wry expression, watching as the customers averted their eyes.  Granny marched up to him with a face like thunder.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, showing your face here!” she said, her voice grim, and he smiled.

“Well, some things never change,” he said dryly.  “Are you, or are you not, in the business of customer service?  Where’s the friendly greeting a customer may expect from such an establishment?”

Granny scowled at him.  “What do you want?”

“Coffee,” said Rumple.  “Bacon, scrambled eggs and toast.  I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

“Doing what?” said Granny sternly.  “Breaking the heart of your wife?  Don’t tell me you didn’t, she’s been in here crying her eyes out!  If my Ruby was here, she’d…”

“Well, she’s not, is she?” he drawled.  “No doubt she’s running wild in the Enchanted Forest, howling at the moon and cocking her leg against a tree.”

Granny curled her lip.  “You’re disgusting,” she said witheringly.  “I’ll bring your breakfast.  Eat it and get out.”

“With pleasure.”

He took a seat by the window, smirking as townsfolk who had been heading for that very spot turned and scurried in the opposite direction.  This was how it would be, then.  This was how it had always been, of course, before the curse had broken.  Before Belle.  He was used to that.  

He watched the steady pass of people as he sat there; Archie Hopper walking Pongo on the other side of the street.  Two of the dwarfs bickering over something just outside the window.  At one point he saw Belle, running with tear-stained cheeks, and his eyes narrowed.  He placed a hand on his chest, over where his heart should be, hoping she would be okay.  After a minute or so Henry passed, running in the same direction.  Good.

He sat back a little as Granny plonked a plate in front of him and set down his coffee with a force that made it spill over onto the table in a dark puddle.

“My, that was careless,” he said lightly, snatching some paper napkins between thumb and forefinger.  “You really are working your way out of a tip here, you know.”

She growled something about exactly where he could shove his tip and stomped off, and he grinned and dug into the eggs.  They were very good, and he was surprised at his appetite, but he could feel it leaving him as the familiar figure of Emma Swan entered the diner.  For a moment he barely recognised her.  She was wearing a dress, of all things.  A strange, flowered monstrosity that swamped her slim figure and clashed with her colouring.  Was this what love did to people, then?  Made off with their sense of style?  He sighed to himself as she marched over to him, Hook looming behind her in some misguided attempt to be menacing.  Emma stopped by his table, and he took a sip of his coffee as he waited for the inevitable request.

“We need your help,” she said without preamble, and he rolled his eyes.

“Well, that’s nothing new, is it?” he said dryly.  “What I can’t understand is why you would think I’d agree.”

“You did a deal with Hyde,” she said accusingly.  “You let him come here, this is _your_ fault!”

He put down his fork very deliberately, giving her a venomous look.

“I did a deal with Hyde because I wanted to save my wife and child,” he said coldly.  “None of you so-called heroes were interested in helping me.  In fact, you did everything you could to stop me.  I did what I had to to save my family.  No doubt you can understand that.”

Emma opened her mouth for a moment, then closed it again, looking frustrated.

“Look, if you’re so interested in protecting Belle, then _help us_ ,” she said.  “The Evil Queen is loose, and it looks as though she and Hyde are making quite the team.”

“So Regina’s brilliant plan backfired?” he said, amused.  “I’m shocked.  Why aren’t you over at her place giving _her_ a hard time about how her choices have affected you?”

“Regina’s already helping,” said Hook.  “She and Zelena are creating some sort of binding spell.”

“Then you have two powerful magic-wielders on your side.”  Rumple drained his coffee cup, setting it down with a clink.  “I can’t think why you’d need me.”

Emma leaned on the table, glaring at him, and he returned her gaze steadily.

“Look, Gold,” she said, her voice quiet.  “You know I wouldn’t come to you unless I had to.”

His laugh had a bitter edge to it.

“Oh, I’m well aware of that, Miss Swan,” he said dryly.  “The only time I ever see anyone is if they want something from me.  Well, you can save your breath, I couldn’t be less interested.”

“We can make a deal,” she suggested.

“Well, the problem there, dearie, is that you have nothing that I want,” he said, his voice soft.  “And that goes for the rest of your band of heroic misfits.”

“Do you want me to beg?” she demanded.  “Is that it?”

“I want you to leave me alone,” he said.  “You’re the Saviour, aren’t you?  Go save something, instead of relying on me and Regina every time the pirate breaks a nail.  It would make a bloody change.”

He wiped his mouth with a napkin, throwing it onto his plate, and fished some money out of his pocket to pay for his meal.  Emma took a deep breath, her eyes a little wild.  She really was desperate, then.

“Belle would want you to help,” she said abruptly, and his eyes narrowed.

“Belle and I are no longer together,” he said.  “And while I care for her, she has no say in how I conduct my life.  You’ve all made it abundantly clear that you despise what I am unless you have a use for me, so I see no reason for us to continue this unpleasant conversation.”  He pushed his chair back, standing up, and smirked as they both took a wary step back.  “Do give Belle my regards, however.”

“I have no idea what the hell she ever saw in you,” said Emma flatly, and he sent her a tiny, twisted smile as he straightened the cuffs of his shirt..

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to,” he said lightly.  “But then it seems that people in this town make odd choices when it comes to relationships.”  

He flicked a glance to Hook, whose eyes narrowed.  

“Enjoy your impending confrontation with Mr Hyde and his associate,” said Rumple.  “No doubt you’ll - well, you’ll muddle through somehow, I’m sure.”

He sauntered out, smirking, feeling their eyes like daggers in his back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm definitely working out some irritation with the writers with this fic...
> 
> One more chapter before Belle and Rumple showdown, I reckon. Next chapter will be up this weekend, I've written most of it

Belle ran until she was out of sight of the library, the diner, and anywhere else that well-meaning townsfolk might be lurking, desperate to help, to give their opinion, to express the usual sympathy tinged with wariness that she had come to expect.  She slowed to a walk as she made her way towards the children’s play area, and sat down on one of the benches there, breathing hard, the clean air cold in her lungs.  Chewing her lip, she thought over the conversation she had just witnessed.  They thought she _controlled_ him.  That he would do her bidding, as though he had no will of his own, as though she held his heart in her hand…  Admittedly she had used the dagger a time or two, but only when necessary, and besides, he held it now.  She dreaded them asking her to _make_ him help.  Swallowing hard, she looked off into the distance, eyes scanning the horizon as though it would show her a way out.  

“Hey.”  Henry’s voice made her look around, and she wiped away a stray tear as he came trotting up to her

“Sorry, Henry,” she said, subdued.  “I just had to be on my own for a while.”

“I get it.”  He sat down beside her, hands clasped on his knees, and there was silence for a moment.  “Did you break up with Grandpa again?”

Belle looked down at her hands, folded in her lap.  The way Henry said it made them sound like moody teenagers.

“Actually he broke up with me,” she said quietly.

“Oh.  Sorry.”  Henry bounced on his toes a little.  “Well, you guys are always fighting, but I’m sure he still loves you.”

Belle sighed, tapping her feet on the ground.

“I don’t know that I’m sure of anything anymore,” she said.  “I used to be.  I was so, so sure when we married.  When he told me I brought light into his life and chased away the darkness…”  She cut off, tears stinging her eyes again at the pain of that memory.  “I wanted to be that light for him,” she whispered.  “I wanted him to see he didn’t _need_ the darkness.”

Henry was silent, listening attentively, and somehow that made it easier to voice her fears.

“Now I just don’t know if _anything_ he told me was true,” she went on quietly.  “I don’t know if he’s been lying to me from day one, or when it started.  He’s so - different, now.  Since he took back the power.”

“But you’re having a baby together,” said Henry.  “I’ll have another aunt or uncle.  That’s a _good_ thing.  You can’t stay mad at each other for ever, right?”

“I don’t know.”  Belle sighed, straightening her skirt.  “I wanted him to use the power for good, to _fight_ the darkness, like I know he can.  I just wanted what was best for him, and he treats me like I’m - like I’m _hurting_ him.”  

“He’s used the power for good before,” said Henry.  “Back when he didn’t know he was my grandpa.  I think - I think maybe he changed.  When my dad died.  He’s been different since then.”

“Oh.”  Belle looked at her hands.

“I mean, I get it,” Henry continued.  “Mom’s been different too.  It’s like - like she’s scared to lose anyone else.”

“Then why is he pushing me away?” asked Belle, turning to face him.  “He acts like he doesn’t even care anymore.”

“I don’t know,” Henry shrugged.  “He was always on his own before.  You know, before we found out pretty much everyone in this town’s related in some way.  Maybe that’s _his_ way of dealing.”

“I don’t know how to help him,” she admitted.  “Or if he even _wants_ my help.”

“So just talk to him,” suggested Henry.  “Maybe he’ll tell you.”

“Maybe.”  He mouth worked a little, nervousness rising at the thought of going to the shop and seeing that terrible indifference in his eyes again.

“You don’t have to do it now,” said Henry.  “My moms could use your help if you want something to take you mind off things until you feel you want to talk to him.”

“Maybe you’re right.”  She sent him a brief smile and nudged him affectionately with her shoulder.  Henry nudged back, returning her smile.

“You should at least eat something,” he added.  “Come on, nothing looks as bad when you have cake.”

“Granny gave me lemon cake,” she admitted.

“Ooh, I could help you eat it!  I mean…” he grinned at her.  “I could - keep you company while _you_ eat it.”

Her eyes crinkled in amusement.  “How about we share?”

 

00000

 

Dusk had fallen by the time Regina and Zelena had made the binding spell to their satisfaction and returned to the library, by which time Belle and the others had found precisely nothing in the books she had gathered.  Frustration was growing, and tempers fraying, as the two sisters marched through the door with satisfied smirks on their faces

“I hope you’ve thought of a way to use this successfully,” said Regina, holding up a vial of swirling, pale blue liquid.  “We worked our asses off trying to make one that the Evil Queen wouldn’t be able to break through.  Hyde’ll be a pushover compared to her.”

“She may pick her way through it eventually,” added Zelena, throwing herself into one of the chairs with a weary sigh.  “But not before we’ve managed to banish her for good, assuming you lot have found something that’ll work.”

The Charmings exchanged a look, Belle sitting with her feet curled under her, still turning pages in the heavy tome she held.  Regina set the potion down on the table, looking around at the books piled high, Emma and the others sitting silent around them.

“What?” she demanded.  “Don’t tell me we don’t have a plan!  What the hell have you all been doing?”

“We’ve been looking!” protested Snow, gesturing at the books.  “Turns out spells that destroy the dark part of someone are somewhat - fatal - Regina, so unless you want to die...”

“Well, there must be something,” snapped Regina.  “I refuse to believe that between three magic wielders, the Author, the Dark One’s bookworm wife and - _you_...”  she gestured at Hook and the Charmings “...we can’t find a solution.”

“Well, be my guest,” said Emma, holding up a book.  “If you think turning white mice into horses for the space of an evening will help.”

“We need different books, these are bloody useless!” added Hook, throwing his book aside, and Regina’s lip curled.

“What’s the matter, not enough pictures for you?”

“Hey!” snapped Emma.  “We’re all helping here!  Do I have to remind you that _you_ caused this mess?”

“How many times do I have to say it?” shouted Regina.  “I didn’t know what would happen, okay?  This is _not_ my fault!”

“Would you guys _stop yelling_ at each other!” blurted Henry.  “You’re driving me crazy!”

Regina let out a long, irritated hiss of breath, letting her head roll back.

“Okay,” she said more calmly.  “Clearly this isn’t working, and we need a new strategy.  What did Gold say?”

“He won’t help,” said Emma bluntly, pushing away from the table and beginning to pace, her frustration evident.

Belle chewed her lip, looking down at the book she held and seeing nothing.

“Won’t help?” she heard Regina say.  “Why not?  What did he want in return?”

“Nothing.”  Belle could hear Emma’s tread, her boots clicking on the wooden floor of the library.  “He said we were on our own.”

Belle sighed internally, glancing up.  Regina looked outraged.  

“Did you _explain_ what..?”

“Yes, of course we bloody explained!” interrupted Hook, scowling.  “He seemed to think it was funny.  The man’s a bloody menace!”

Regina began to pace in time with Emma, frowning.

“Belle,” she said.  “Go speak to your husband, make him see reason.”

“I - I’m not sure…” began Belle.

“Yeah, that won’t work either,” said Emma flatly.  “He said they’re not together.”

Her bald statement hit Belle like a punch to the gut, stealing her breath.  She had known it, of course, but to hear another say it with such - indifference…  Henry put a hand on her shoulder, and she welcomed the comfort, however small.

“So we can’t rely on his conscience, then,” noted Zelena.  “Pity.  There are other ways, of course.  I often find compulsion is far less bother than reason.”

_“No!”_  

The vehemence of her tone surprised Belle, and made David start.  She glared at Zelena.  

“If this is some plot to take his dagger, I’ll have no part of it," she said.  "He said he won’t help.  That’s it.”

“Actually, I agree with Belle,” said David calmly.  “We’ll find another way.  These books have to hold the key.  We just haven’t found it yet.”

“We don’t have time for that!” insisted Zelena.  “Not if we’re relying on you lot to find the answer, anyway!  If Belle could provide - a distraction - I’d be happy to sneak into the shop and take the thing.”

Belle slammed her book shut and dropped it onto the table, pushing her chair back with a loud scrape and standing up.

“If he caught you, he’d kill you,” she said, her voice trembling.  “And to be honest, I’m not sure I’d stop him.”

Bristling with anger, she snatched up a couple of books and stomped from the room, not wanting to look at any of them.  Regina frowned at Zelena.

“Nice work,” she said dryly.  “And I thought I had no subtlety.”

“Well, you can’t tell me you weren’t all thinking it,” objected Zelena.  “I merely had the guts to say it.  But fine.”  She waved a hand.  “By all means let’s do it the hard way, I’m sure that’ll be tremendous fun.”

Glowering, Regina resumed pacing again, she and Emma crossing paths over and over in the small space.

“If Gold won’t help we need another plan,” said Emma.  “What about the Blue Fairy?”

“She said she and the other fairies were going to be looking into ways they could help,” said David.  “But she didn’t sound hopeful.  We’ll go see her in the morning, maybe she’ll have something.”

“Okay.”  Emma nodded, hands on her hips, a vexed expression on her face.  “Okay, then.  In that case, we should get some rest, meet back here first thing.”

Regina suddenly whirled on the balls of her feet, making Snow start in surprise.

“Okay, I have to say something, I can’t stand it any longer: Emma, what in the hell are you wearing?” she demanded, gesturing up and down Emma’s form.

Emma’s eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing in confusion.

“I - um - what?” she asked, and spread her arms, looking down at herself.  “It’s a dress.”

“That’s _not_ a dress,” said Regina witheringly.  “It’s an affront to fashion!   _And_ my eyes.  Are you planning on heading to the frontier or something?”

Emma gaped at her, and Hook scowled.

“I like it,” he announced.  “I think it makes her look - feminine.  Soft.”

Regina turned to him with a stare that could burn through cold steel.

“Emma is not _soft_!” she said.  “She could chew you up and spit you out like so many leather bootstraps if she chose!”

“I didn’t mean it as a bloody insult!” he protested.  “But I should have known _you’d_ see it as one!  Not everyone finds it impossible to let their guard down around the ones they love, Your Majesty!”

Regina’s eyes narrowed.

“What did you say?” she asked dangerously.

“Alright!” snapped Snow.  “That’s enough!  Bickering won’t fix anything!  I say we follow Emma’s suggestion, and go and get some rest.  This problem isn’t going anywhere.”

“Agreed.”  David slammed his book shut.  “We’ll pick this up tomorrow.”

 

00000

 

Belle slept badly, curled in her bunk as the ship rolled and tossed.  A wind had risen in the night, making the water choppy, and she was woken by nausea and vaguely unpleasant dreams.  She lay with her knees pulled up and her arms wrapped around her middle, thinking over how they might defeat the Evil Queen.  Rumple had said he wouldn’t help.  He had said they weren’t together.  That had hurt more than she wanted to think about, thrown out by Emma in a matter-of-fact way, as though it were nothing of importance.  She wondered how things would be when the baby came.  Whether he would come to wherever she eventually made her home, wait at the end of the path or outside the door, never entering, never truly a part of the family.  Whether they would greet one another with polite indifference before he took their child out to the park.  Whether he would lift the child in his arms and kiss its cheek and laugh with that familiar gleam of love in his eyes that was no longer for her.  Whether he would teach it magic.

Sighing unhappily, she swung her legs over the edge of the bunk and got up.  Dawn had broken, warm light filtering into the room, and she dressed hurriedly, pulling a brush through her hair and tugging on her coat.  A walk might clear her head.

She made her way through the quiet streets of the town, the cool breeze nipping at her and snatching at tendrils of her hair.  Those few residents that were about hurried with heads down, yawning, and she walked to the park, sitting down on one of the benches there and watching the sun rise through the trees.  

Determined to think of something other than the wasteland of her marriage, she turned her mind once more to the problem of Hyde and the Evil Queen.  How to destroy the dark part of a person.  She wasn’t sure that it was possible, honestly, but she had promised to try.  There was darkness in everyone, of course.  In some more than others, but it was always present to an extent.  Destroy that, and a person lost a part of themselves.  She wondered if Regina had thought this through; she was inclined to be impatient.  Reckless, even, if she thought it would get her what she wanted.  

Belle had found nothing in her books so far.  Perhaps there was something at the shop.  Rumple had a larger collection of books than anyone in town except the library itself, and certainly more books on magic.  She wondered if he would let her look, if she didn’t ask for his help with the actual spell-casting.  It was the logical next step, but the thought of seeing him again, of that awful calmness on his face, in his voice, like he felt nothing for her, made her afraid to take it.

“Belle, are you okay?”

A warm, familiar voice made her look up, and Belle tried to return the kind smile of the Blue Fairy.  She was standing with her gloved hands clasped in front of her, her nun’s habit as spotless as ever.  She looked around, breathing deeply of the sea air.

“A beautiful day,” she observed.  “A little cold, though, I think.  Perhaps summer is over.”

“I - yeah, I guess so,” said Belle, not really in the mood to make polite conversation.  

Blue sat down next to her, smoothing her skirts, and fixed Belle with a sharp eye, that smile still on her face.

“I hear you’ve been having a hard time,” she said.  

“Says who?” muttered Belle.

“Oh, I have eyes,” said Blue knowingly.  “When a woman who’s usually cheerful spends most of the day in tears, it would suggest something’s up.”

“Yeah,” said Belle thickly, and Blue patted her hand sympathetically.

“Turmoil in relationships is never easy,” she said gently.  “I expect with a child on the way it’s even worse.”

“I’m really okay,” insisted Belle, feeling that she needed to explain herself.  “Or at least, I will be.  It’s just - everything seems too _much_ right now.  It’s kind of hit me that I’m going to be a mother, and I don’t even know what I’m doing!”

“Oh, no one’s ever prepared, no matter how much they plan,” Blue assured her.  “But perhaps I can help.  I understand that you’re currently staying on board Hook’s ship?”

Belle pulled a face.

“Not the best choice of accommodation with the morning sickness,” she admitted, and Blue chuckled.

“Well, why don’t you come and stay at the convent?” she asked.  “There’s more than enough room, and we’re very experienced with babies, as you know.”

Belle thought for a moment.  It made sense; the fairies had cribs, toys, everything the baby would need.  And the fairies loved children; she wouldn’t have to do everything on her own.  She chewed at her lip nervously.  Gods, Rumple would _hate_ the idea!  Still, he’d told Emma they were no longer together, so what right did he have to tell her where to live?  His inevitable displeasure made her think of another potential problem as far as the fairies were concerned.

“You’d really take in the Dark One’s child?” she asked, with a tremulous smile, and Blue shrugged.

“Well, a baby is innocent of whatever its father might have done,” she said, and placed a comforting hand over Belle’s.  “After all, we had Robyn there until Zelena returned, remember?  She’s the sweetest little thing!”

That was true.  Robyn was adorable, no matter what her mother had done in the past.  Belle chewed her lip, shooting Blue an uncertain look.  

“Do you - do you know if power can be - can be passed from parent to child?” she asked, voicing a fear she had tried to pretend wasn’t there since she had been informed of the pregnancy.  Blue gave her a knowing smile.

“Magical _ability_ can be inherited, yes,” she said.  “Look at Cora, Zelena and Regina.  But I’m not sure how that would work with your husband’s dark curse.  That’s an entity in itself.  I suspect it’s tied to Rumplestiltskin for as long as he lives.”

“Right,” said Belle, shivering as she was reminded of him almost dying, the power gone from him.

“You’re in a very unique position,” added Blue.  “There’s no record of any Dark One ever having a child.  I didn’t think it was possible.  None of us did.  I’ve been studying the old books, looking for - well…”  She cut off, smiling.  “You don’t need to hear me going on.  The point is I’d like to help you.  Even though the idea may be a little -  unsettling - for the other fairies.”

She smiled again, as if to reassure Belle, who nodded.

“I understand,” she said.  “Does that mean they wouldn’t want us to stay?”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” said Blue soothingly.  “I’ll explain everything.  Besides, magical ability from its father doesn’t mean that the child itself will wield dark power.  Intent is everything.”

Belle nodded, somewhat relieved.

“I just - everything’s happened at once,” she said.  “I hardly know where to turn.  My friends are always dealing with the latest crisis, and worrying about something that’s months away seems stupid.”

“Those months will be gone before you know it,” said Blue.  “Better to make the arrangements now.”  She put her head to the side, her gaze calculating.  “You’d be safe with us, you know.  We have enough light magic to counter - well - whatever we needed to.”

Belle didn’t miss the barely veiled suggestion that the fairies would keep Rumple out, if she wanted.  

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” she sighed.  “I just wish everything wasn’t so - complicated.”

Blue put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You have true love with the Dark One,” she said.  “That was never going to be easy.  That’s what makes you so special, Belle, and why I know you’ll be fine.  True love is still the purest magic there is, and that’s what this baby was made from.”

Belle chewed her lip, unwilling to reveal what Rumple had told her of the possibility of their love fading.  It had still been there, though: still burned as bright as a thousand stars when their child was made.  She remembered how it had felt, how _he_ had felt.  At the time she had assumed it was merely joy at being with him again, at being joined with her love, her only.  How had she not known, then, what they had done?  What they had made together?  

“I’m sure that your child will be very special indeed, Belle,” added Blue.

She was still smiling, her eyes alight with warmth, and Belle made her decision.

 

00000

 

Her new living arrangements turned out to be the highlight of her day, the remainder being filled with mounting frustration as she and the others continued to trawl through the books in a vain attempt to find a spell that would work.

“This is ridiculous!” said Regina, slamming a book shut and tossing it aside.  “There has to be some way of dealing with the evil twin I set loose other than destroying the both of us!”  She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut.  “And I can’t believe that sentence just came out of my mouth.”

Belle scooped up the book, giving Regina a sidelong look, and brushed dust from its spine almost lovingly, setting in a pile with the other discarded volumes.

“What about banishing her to another realm?” suggested Zelena.

“We can’t do _that_!” protested Snow.  “What about the people who live there?  I’ve experienced the terror that the Evil Queen can wreak, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone!”

“I’m sitting right here, you know,” said Regina dryly.  “And for what it’s worth I _have_ apologised.”

“We could banish her from Storybrooke,” offered David.  “She wouldn’t have magic, at least.”

“Except now we know that magic can exist _outside_ Storybrooke,” said Emma heavily.  “We can’t let her leave.  Not unless we know she can’t hurt anyone.”

“We need a way to control her, then,” said Hook.  “Make sure the binding spell holds.”

Emma sighed, letting her head fall onto the books in front of her, and they all jumped as the door to the library burst open and Leroy and Doc hurried in.  Leroy’s beard was almost bristling with anger, his usual surly expression amplified, his brows drawn down.

“Whatever you’re all doing in here, do it faster!” he snarled.  “While you were sitting here playing nice and wondering what to do with her, the Evil Queen turned Sleepy and Bashful into stone!”

“Oh!”  Belle got to her feet.  “Leroy, I’m so sorry!”

“Yeah, well, _you_ didn’t let her out,” he growled, and glared at Regina.  “Seems like you can’t just pretend your dark side doesn’t exist _Your Majesty_!”

“I’m trying to help,” said Regina coldly, and he barked a laugh.

“Yeah, right!” he sneered.  “Look, I know we dwarfs are pretty far down the list when it comes to people who actually matter to you, but we’re a man down already!  Or did you all forget about Dopey the Tree?”

“Leroy!” said Snow, upset.  “Of _course_ we didn’t!”

“Then _do_ something!” he spat.  “Include Hyde while you’re at it.”

“He thought it was funny,” added Doc.  “Sneezy almost punched him, we barely got him out of there.”

“I’ll be back in a minute,” muttered Henry, pushing back his chair and slipping out of the room.  Belle watched him go with a slight frown, briefly wondering where he was off to before turning her attention back to the others.

“The binding spell,” said David grimly, looking between Zelena and Regina.  “It’s time, whether we have a new plan or not.  It may not hold her forever, but it will at least give us space to figure out something else.”

“Fine!” snapped Regina, snatching up the vial of potion and nodding to Zelena.  “But I won’t be able to fool her twice!  if you can’t find out how to fix this, we’re screwed!”

 

00000

 

Rumple’s day had been blessedly calm.  No one disturbing the peace of his shop, which meant that he had been able to start another complex potion.  No one accusing him of doing something he hadn’t.  No one bursting through the door demanding that he fix their problems, most of which could have been avoided if they’d listened to him in the first place.  Being shunned by the town certainly had its merits.  At one point he heard screams from outside, and almost went to see what was going on, but then he saw Hyde stalking past the window, and figured it was none of his business.  Instead he went through to the back room to set up his potion apparatus on the workbench, grinning to himself.

The afternoon had passed in relative quiet, and dusk was falling when he heard the sound of the shop doorbell.  Brow furrowing, he pushed aside the curtain that separated the back room from the shop, and was surprised to see his grandson standing there, staring at him with the light of challenge in his eyes.  Rumple wiped his hands on the cloth he was carrying and dropped it on the counter.

“Henry,” he said, reaching beneath the counter for a book.  “What can I do for you?”

“The Evil Queen turned Sleepy and Bashful into garden ornaments,” said Henry belligerently.  “So what you can do is help.”

Rumple chuckled deeply.

“Well, your mother always did have a flair for the dramatic,” he said, amused.

“She’s _not_ my mother!” insisted Henry.  “She’s the Evil Queen!”

Rumple rolled his eyes, turning the pages before pressing open the two sides of the book with the flat of one hand, fingers splayed on the pages.

“If you think she isn’t as much a part of your mother as Regina is, you’re starting to believe everything the Charmings tell you,” he said.  “Regina can’t just rip a part of herself away like it’s an old scab over new skin.  Changing who you are takes time and effort.”

“Really?”  Henry folded his arms.  “I don’t see _you_ changing all that much!”

“That’s because I’ve accepted who and what I am.”  Rumple turned his attention back to the book.  “Took me a long time, but I did it.  Regina needs to do the same, instead of looking for a quick fix.  She’d save herself a lot of pain, believe me.  And those around her.”

“She wanted to get rid of the darkness, that’s all!” protested Henry.  “I know it didn’t work out well, but the intent…”

“Intent is meaningless,” said Rumple dismissively.  “Effect is everything.  Some of the most evil deeds in the history of the realms have resulted from good intentions.”  

He picked up his pen, studying the page he had turned to and making a note on a small pad of paper beside him.

“Mom and Aunt Zelena made a binding spell,” said Henry, changing the subject.  “They’re gonna cast it, buy some time to find a way to defeat Mr Hyde and the Evil Queen.  They could use your help.”

“I’m sure they could.  But I’m not going to wave my hand and make all this go away for them, understand?”

He ran a finger down the page, shaking his head before turning it and tapping the paper with a satisfied expression.  He made another note, and Henry sighed.

“What am I supposed to tell them?” he asked then, and Rumple raised his eyes, holding Henry’s gaze calmly.

“Tell them what I told you,” he said.  “Regina needs to accept her dark half as part of her, and put in some hard work to change from within.  She already made a good start, she needs to stay the course.”

“Like you?” said Henry sarcastically, and Rumple smiled thinly.

“I’m the Dark One,” he said quietly.  “The darkest of all Dark Ones, to hear it told.  It appears there’s no hope for me.”

Henry rolled his eyes, frustrated, and Rumple dropped his gaze to the book once more.  There was silence for a moment.

“Belle’s upset,” said Henry eventually.

“I don’t doubt it.”  Rumple turned the page.

“She - she misses you,” added Henry.  “She doesn’t say anything, but I can tell.  I think she wants to come and see you, but she’s afraid you’ll turn her away.”

“And what exactly do you expect me to do with this information?” he asked dryly.

“Talk to her!” Henry insisted.  “She’s your _wife_!  You’re supposed to be having a baby together, doesn’t that _matter_ to you?”

Rumple set down his pen, straightening up a little.

“Of course it matters,” he said quietly.  “I don’t want to fight with Belle, and I want to be there for my child, but if she doesn’t want me in her life I’m not going to force my way in to be with her.”

“Who said she didn’t?” demanded Henry.  “She’s miserable, and - and _you’re_ miserable, and I don’t understand why people who say they’re adults can be so - so _stupid_ and - and _childish_ when they’re supposed to love each other!  You’re both as bad as my moms!”

The final sentence was almost shouted, and Rumple blinked as Henry ran from the shop, the bell jingling madly as he slammed the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m having fun with this.  Enjoy some Golden Queen snark.

In the end the binding spell turned out to be a success, but it had taken some sneaky distractions on Zelena’s part to finally trap the Evil Queen.  Hyde had been easier, and the two were now locked in separate cells in the asylum while Regina and the others figured out what to do with them.  Regina herself felt incredibly weary, and Zelena used her magic to take them back to the centre of town, the two of them appearing in a cloud of green smoke outside Granny’s.

“Well, that’s phase one complete,” said Zelena.  “Shall we see if they’ve found anything useful?  I highly doubt it, but we can always hope for miracles.”

Regina frowned, looking in the direction of the pawnshop.

“You go on ahead,” she said.  “Tell them I’ll be along in a while.”

“If you’re thinking of appealing to Rumplestiltskin’s better nature, you’re wasting your time,” said Zelena bluntly.  “He doesn’t have one.”

“Well, people used to say that about you,” said Regina, her tone wry.  “I can try, at least.”

“I could come with you,” suggested Zelena, tossing her hair back.  “He’d find it harder to deal with both of us at once.”

“I’m not attacking him!” snapped Regina.  “This calls for a less confrontational approach, and no offence, sis, but that isn’t going to happen if you go with me.”

“Point taken,” said Zelena, shrugging languidly.  “Well, if you need my help, don’t hesitate to call.  That tussle with your worse half actually has me in the mood for a showdown.”

Regina gave her a flat look, and stalked off towards the pawnshop, her arms held stiffly at her sides, fingers wriggling as though she were casting a spell.  She took a deep breath as she pushed open the door, the bell jingling happily.  Rumple was standing behind the counter, a book open in front of him, making notes on a pad of paper, and he looked up as she entered, the light gleaming on his new short hair.  Someday she’d have to get the story behind how that had happened.  He eyed her curiously, tapping his pen on the pages.

“Well, well, my shop is incredibly popular this evening,” he said dryly.  “Did you all run out of crises to go and solve, or do you just like ruining my day?”

“Usually the latter, but this time I’m actually here to help you,” she said briskly, marching to the counter.

“And what makes you think I either need or want your help?” he asked dismissively.

“Because Emma tells me you broke up with Belle.”

He scowled, dropping his pen and shutting the book with a thump.

“I can’t see what business it is of anyone but the two of us,” he said.  “And I’ll thank you to keep your no doubt excellent intentions to yourself.  I’ve had enough interference from you to last several lifetimes, frankly.”

Regina inclined her head.

“Well, that was ‘past’ me,” she said, by way of an apology.  “‘Present’ me wants to help.”

“Releasing the Evil Queen brought about a case of contrition, did it?” he said sarcastically.  “Better late than never, I suppose.  Tell me, did you ever talk to Emma about what you did to Sheriff Graham?”

She paled, her jaw working a little.

“I’m not perfect, I think that’s pretty evident,” she said stiffly.  “But I’m trying to change.  Emma sees that.”

“Really?”  He smirked a little.  “She’s blind to a great many other things.”

“Not to this,” she said assuredly, and the corner of his mouth pulled up a little further.

“The Saviour’s good opinion is important to you, then,” he observed.

“What if it is?  She’s my friend.”  She was scowling at him.  “I’d ask you what your friends think of _you_ , but we both know that would be a short conversation.”

His smile widened as he held her gaze.

“May I offer you a drink?” he asked abruptly, and walked through to the back room, pushing the curtain aside.  He heard her follow him as he skirted the workbench set out with his potion apparatus.

“I hardly think whisky’s the answer, Gold,” she said dryly, and he smirked, crossing to the shelves to retrieve a crystal decanter and two glasses.

“Well, I find that rather depends on the question,” he said, and poured two measures of amber liquid.  

When he turned to face her she was looking over the potion equipment curiously, her lips pursed as she studied the liquid in one of the glass vials, a faint gleam at its core.  Rumple held a glass up to her with a raised eyebrow, and after a moment she took it with a nod of thanks.  He took a sip, the smooth fire spreading over his tongue with hints of honey and smoke, and Regina watched him over the rim of her glass.

“i take it things have quietened down in Storybrooke?” he said.  “I haven’t heard any screaming for some time.”

She sniffed.  “The binding spell worked.  We locked Hyde and the Evil Queen in the asylum.  It’ll hold until we can figure out what to do with them in the long term.”

“Well, I wish you luck,” he said indifferently.

“No you don’t.”

“No, really, I do.”  He took another sip of whisky.  “You’re gonna need it if you insist on keeping her apart from where she belongs.  The entire town will need it.”

“Stop changing the subject,” she said.  “You don’t give a damn about this town, and we both know it.”

“It appears the feeling’s mutual,” he said.

“Talk to your wife, Rumple,” said Regina sternly, and he sighed.

“Why do you even care?” he asked wearily.

She put her hands on her hips, the whisky sloshing in her glass.

“Because she’s moping around and driving me insane!” she snapped.  “I have to contend with Emma sucking face with that - that leather-clad _moron_ every time I turn around, and Belle looking as though she’s about to burst into tears any second!  At this rate I’ll be hanging out with the remaining dwarfs just for a change of scene!”

“How dreadful,” he said, uninterested, and she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you _care_ that she’s miserable?” she demanded.  “I doubt it’s good for the baby, and it’s _certainly_ no good to me when my best researcher is running from the room every time someone mentions your name!  I’m working my ass off trying to save this damn town from the monster _you_ made a deal with!  You _owe_ me!”

“I owe you _nothing_!” he snapped, suddenly furious.  “I owe _none_ of you _anything_!  You washed your hands of me a long time ago, and if you think you can guilt me into helping you now, you’ve clearly suffered too many blows to the head.”

He turned his back on her before he could say anything further, taking a drink of his whisky, and busied himself with the potion apparatus.  Regina sighed heavily.

“Look, I’m not pretending to understand why, or how,” she said coolly.  “But Belle loves you.  You know that.  Just talk to her.”

“And say what?”  He glanced over his shoulder before swivelling back to face her.  “We had our discussion.  I meant everything I said to her.  Nothing’s changed since then, and I’m tired of being a disappointment, Regina.  Belle wants a part of me gone, and I’m not prepared to agree to that.”

“Oh, come on!”  She put her hands on her hips, dark eyes flashing.  “You know she’s thinking of what’s best for you.”

“I used to believe that.”  He turned away again, bending to lift a tray of bottled ingredients up onto the bench.  “But that’s not what she’s doing.  And I have no desire to discuss my personal business with you any further, Your Majesty.”

“You may have convinced her you don’t care about her,” she said.  “You may have even convinced _yourself_ , I don’t care.  But we both know it’s a lie.”

“Whoever said I didn’t care about her?” he asked, puzzled.  “Of course I care.  But caring about someone and wanting to change who you are just to please them are two entirely separate things.”  He turned his attention to the potion ingredients, long fingers walking through the necks of the bottles and making them clink faintly.  “You of all people should know that.”

He could see her move out of the corner of his eye, hands leaning on the bench either side of him.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, and he looked up.

“You have a family now,” he said.  “You have the Charmings, and Henry.  Your dead lover’s child.  Your sister.”  His lip curled at that.  “Perhaps that will be enough to keep you busy.  Stop you thinking about that other part of you.  The part you ripped away and tossed aside like it was a bloodied nightgown.”

Regina glared at him.

“The darkness is _not_ a part of me!” she hissed, gesturing to the side as though casting something from her.  “I got _rid_ of it!  The fact that the Evil Queen is in town making her presence known means _nothing_!   _She_ is not _me_!”

She jabbed at her chest, and Rumple chuckled.

“Did you really think it would be that easy?” he asked, amused.  “Deny it all you like, dearie, but the darkness is as much a part of you as the light.  Took me a long time to see that.  You need to stop fighting it, and embrace it.  Only by doing that, can you control it.”

He took another sip of whisky, watching her.  She took a drink herself, but he couldn’t tell whether she had taken his words to heart.  She would, though.  Eventually.  He only hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

“Well, I didn’t come here to talk about me, anyway,” she said.  “I came to talk about Belle.  You do realise she’s staying on board Hook’s ship?  That’s no place for a pregnant woman!  Or anyone with a sense of smell, for that matter.”

“Well, we can certainly agree on that,” he said dryly.  “But the choice is hers.  She’s the one carrying the child.”

“I had thought about inviting her to stay with us,” she went on.  “There are plenty of spare rooms, she wouldn’t be in the way.  I might like some more company when all this - drama - has died down.  And Zelena would help with the baby.”

Rumple stared at her incredulously.

“In what parallel universe would I ever agree to that?”

“Are you seriously saying you wouldn’t trust Zelena with a baby?” she demanded.

“Is this a joke?” he asked.  “I wouldn’t trust Zelena with a budgerigar.”

Regina rolled her eyes.

“Rumple, don’t be obtuse!”

“She’s not getting anywhere near my child,” he said evenly.  “That’s one thing I _shall_ insist on when this whole thing plays out.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see what Belle thinks,” shrugged Regina.  “But I’m telling you Zelena’s not the person she was.  She’s been great with Robyn.”

“Oh, so she overcomes her no-doubt natural instinct to eat her own young, and suddenly she’s Mother of the Year?” he said snidely.  “I’ll be sure to tune in for the next riveting instalment of Zelena doing what any decent person would and wanting a fucking medal for it.  No doubt Hook will run her a close second.”

“You’re an asshole!”

Rumple put down his glass, fixing Regina with a stare that made her square her jaw defiantly.

“Zelena gets one warning from me, so be so good as to deliver it,” he said, his voice quiet, menacing.  “If she touches one hair on my child’s head, I _will_ kill her.  No ifs, no buts, no second chances.”

Regina sucked in a breath, folding her arms.

“Then you and I are gonna have a problem,” she said levelly, and Rumple showed his teeth.

“Situation normal, then.”

Regina sighed, rolling her eyes a little, and leaned on the bench again.

“Look, I know what she did to you…”

Rumple let out a humourless chuckle, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

“No,” he said.  “No, you really don’t.  You know what she did to your true love, of course, and your desire for a relationship with her was more important than his feelings on the matter, so I certainly don’t expect any sympathy for my perspective.”

“But she’s different now!” objected Regina, and he let out a snort of derision.  She glared at him.  “Don’t you think I can _recognise_ that?  She’s _trying_.”

“The only thing she’s trying is my patience!” he snapped.  “I mean it, Regina.  One wrong move and she’ll be dust.  I’ll make it quick, for your sake.”

“Oh, stop blustering!” she scoffed.  “I know you made a deal with her.  You can’t touch her!”

Rumple leaned on the bench, hands poised on the dark wood as he eyed her steadily.

“I’ve broken one deal in the whole of my life, and it cost me my son,” he said quietly.  “But if you don’t think I’d break another to keep _this_ child safe, you really, really don’t know me.”

“I’m telling you it won’t be necessary,” she said, her voice cold.  “I know she has a way to go; she’s a work in progress, like me.”

Rumple walked out from behind the bench, casting disbelieving eyes at her, and she followed him with a face like thunder.  

“She’s thinking of others before herself for a change!” she protested.  “She killed Hades to save me!”

“What, the man she’d known for all of five minutes?” he sneered.  “Well, well, you hero types really wrote the book on sacrifice, didn’t you?  You’ll forgive me if my heart doesn’t bleed for her.”

“So you don’t think she’s changed?” asked Regina, folding her arms, and his mouth thinned.

“I think it’s easy to play nice when you have everything you want,” he said.  “That’s why you and I have such a hard time staying on the right path, wouldn’t you agree?”

Regina gave him a flat look.

“I have everything I want right now,” she said, tossing her head.

“Then why are you in here whining to me?” he snapped, putting his glass down with a loud _clunk_.  “Go and braid your sister’s hair or something!”

Regina scowled.  “You’re a bastard!”

“Yes, and I’ve never pretended to be anything else,” he said coldly.  “Now run along, dearie.”

“Will you talk to Belle or not?” she demanded, and he shrugged, as though it didn’t matter.

“If Belle wants to see me, she knows where I am.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed, and he turned away from her, not liking the calculating look she was giving him.  He walked back through to the shop, and she followed him, the curtain swirling in her wake.

“What did you do?” she asked softly.  He ignored her, taking a drink of his whisky with his back to her.  The safe was to his left, and it was almost as though he could feel his heart from where he stood, its presence making the atmosphere thick and heavy.  Ominous.

“You did something.”  He could hear her move, step towards him.  “Did you - did you take your _heart_ out?  Is that why you’re being so cold to your wife?”

His mouth twisted.

“My heart is perfectly fine, thank you,” he said stiffly.

“Rumple…”

“I said it’s fine!”

He threw back the rest of the whisky, and there was silence for a moment.

“I know what it’s like to feel so much pain you want to rip the thing from your chest,” she said, and her voice had lowered, gained a touch of understanding.  “But I also remember what it was like living with someone who took out her heart and kept in a locked box with her morals, her empathy, and her capacity to love stripped away.”

His jaw tightened, and he heard her take a step closer.

“My mother did a lot of terrible things,” she said.  “But denying a part of herself caused the most damage to those she loved.  Don’t make the same mistake.”

Rumple chuckled faintly, and turned on the balls of his feet to face her.

“Well, if you can recognise all that,” he said quietly.  “Perhaps now you understand my point about the Evil Queen.”

Regina opened her mouth, and closed it again, looking thoughtful.  His smile widened.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do,” he said.  “Unless there was anything else?”

She flicked her eyes at him, frowning, and shook her head, draining her glass and setting it down before marching from the shop.  He watched her go, flicking his hand to lock the door after her with a faint swirl of magic, then turned to the safe, eyeing it with trepidation.  Regina was right about one thing.  He couldn’t leave his heart out permanently.  It was time to try again.  Perhaps he’d manage five hours tonight.  A muscle twitched in his cheek, nervous fingers unconsciously twisting in the air.  Another drink, first.  Just to steady his nerves.  Yes.

 

00000

 

Regina stomped into the library, irritation tightening her jaw and making her eyes gleam.

“Oh, that _man_!” she growled, almost to herself.  “I try to help and all I get are _insults_!”

“Told you it wouldn’t work,” said Zelena dismissively.  “You should have let me handle it.”

“What did he say?” asked Snow, and Regina ran a hand through her hair, looking frustrated.

“He says I can’t defeat the Evil Queen this way,” she said stiffly.  “He says that I have to embrace her, accept her.  That I can’t do that when I don’t see her as part of myself.”

“But she’s _not_ a part of you anymore,” said Emma.  “You cast her out, you wanted her gone.  That has to mean something.”

“Agreed.  I think he’s projecting,” said Regina.  “He can’t accept that it’s possible to live without the darkness, so he assumes it can’t be done.”  She turned to Belle.  “I tried to get him to talk to you, but he said you knew where he was if you wanted him.”

Belle looked down at her book.

“Oh,” she said.  “Well, I - I don’t really know what to say anyway.”

She closed her book with a sigh, and there was silence for a moment, the others appearing to pick up on her mood.

“Well, maybe we should be going,” said Snow quietly.  “The town’s safe for the moment.  Let’s all get some rest.”

“We’ll look in on the dwarfs,” added David.  “Regina, do you think you could turn Sleepy and Bashful back?  Maybe check in on Dopey?  I think that would go a long way to raise morale.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” sighed Regina.  “It shouldn’t take too long.  Zelena, you take the tree, I’ll deal with the stone dwarfs.”

“Oh fine, give me the tricky one!” sniffed Zelena.

“Just do it!” snapped Regina, and glanced at the others.  “We’ll meet back here at first light.”

“Got it.”  Emma pushed away from the table.  “Anyone for a beer?  I’m heading to Granny’s.”

“Me,” said Henry, and she ruffled his hair, amused.

“Yeah, I don’t think so, kid,” she said dryly.  “You go back with Mom and Dad, okay?”

Grumbling under his breath in fake annoyance, Henry fell into step beside Snow and David, and they began shuffling out of the library.  Belle started gathering up the discarded books, eyeing the pile that remained, the pile that they hadn’t yet looked through.  It was worryingly small.  At some point she would have to go to him, to ask him for help.

Chewing her lip, she carried the used books through to the small stock room, and stacked them on the cart she used for reshelving.  The library behind her was quiet, and she was surprised when she heard footsteps.

“Belle.”  

She turned at Regina’s voice, and Regina stopped, raising a hand and letting it fall.

“Thanks for trying,” said Belle.  “But I knew it wouldn’t do any good.  He seems - he seems to be shutting everyone out now.  I don’t even think he’ll listen to me.”

Regina nodded, a frown on her face.

“I think he did something,” she said quietly.  “The way he’s acting - I think he might have taken out his heart.”

Belle’s eyes widened.   _Of course_.

“If I’m shoving my way in where I’m not wanted…” Regina continued.

“No!”  Belle lifted a hand.  “No.  Thank you, I knew there was something.”

“For what it’s worth I can understand,” added Regina.  “When I unravelled the curse, sent Henry away with Emma, I did the same.  The pain of not being with him was almost too much to bear.  Snow talked me around, and I’m glad of it.”

“And when Robin died?” asked Belle gently, and Regina’s mouth twisted with pain.

“I haven’t really had time to dwell on it,” she said, her tone clipped.  “But I guess I’ll have to find a way to deal that doesn’t involve losing a part of myself.”

Belle shook her head, upset, and Regina sighed.

“Look, I realise that you and I will probably never be friends,” she said.  “There’s too much there.  Too much that I did when I was - another person.  I’m truly sorry, Belle.  I’m sorry for the things I’ve done to you.  To everyone.”

Belle nodded in acknowledgement.  “I know you are,” she said.  “I know how much you’re trying, I can see that.”

“My point is, I can understand why he did it,” said Regina.  “Not feeling anything sounds great when the alternative is pain.  But I know what people are capable of when they can’t feel anything.  I know what my mother was capable of.  The last thing this town needs is a Dark One without emotions to give him pause, do you understand?”

Belle blinked, hugging a book to herself as though it could act as a shield.

“Yes,” she said quietly.  “I understand.”

“He still loves you,” said Regina.  “I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy....”  She sighed, shaking her head.  “But I guess nothing ever is for people like us,” she added dryly.

Belle ducked her head, feeling awkward, and Regina sighed again.

“I need a drink,” she muttered.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”  

Belle watched her go, still hugging the book to her chest, and as the library doors swung shut she dropped it onto the cart with the others, chewing her lip as she thought.  He had taken out his _heart_ ?  At least that explained why he had been so cold, why he had seemed not to care.  A flash of anger went through her at his having taken the easy way out, while she had been suffering, hurting.  While he had made her think that he didn’t _care_ , that she didn’t _matter_.  How _dare_ he!  Running away instead of facing their problems, instead of accepting her concerns about the darkness and its effects on their child!  

She began to pace back and forth, her anger growing, thinking back over the course of their relationship.  So many times he had shut her out, hadn’t talked to her about what was bothering him.  So many times he had lied to her, either overtly or by omission, as though he didn’t want her to see his true self, as though he thought she’d leave him if she did!  She _knew_ who he was!  She knew what he had the potential to be!  And yet he tried to shield her from the truth, to hide from her, like she was a child who had to be protected!   _Damn_ him!  He was probably sitting in his shop right now, tinkering with some bloody trinket and not even _thinking_ about their marriage crumbling around them.  She huffed air through her nose, her fury rising.

 

00000

 

Rumple finished his drink, letting the final drop of liquid fire slide down his throat and setting down the empty glass on the shop counter before swivelling on his toes to face the wall behind him.  He eyed the safe, the flat surface broken by the dark shape of the keyhole, a tiny accusing eye in the thick metal that he imagined could see into his soul.  The handle made a mouth, flattened in amusement, almost mocking, and he curled his lip at his own imaginings, digging in his pocket for the key.  Unlocking the safe, he reached inside for the velvet bag, feeling the weight of his heart in the palm of his hand for a moment before opening up the bag to take it out.  He sucked in a breath, bracing himself for the pain he would feel, and sneered at it before he pushed it into his chest with a swift, rough gesture, making sure it hurt him.  He’d get used to it.  He’d have to.

 

00000

 

Belle paced back and forth across the smooth wooden boards of the library floor, running a hand over the slight curve of her belly and chewing her lip in agitation.  So he had cut her out of his life, had told her that true love could fade, had told her _she_ had let it fade, when all the time he was standing there with his heart the gods knew where, acting like he didn’t care!  It was no good.  She had to do something.  Spinning on her toes, she stamped her foot, raising her chin.

“Rumplestiltskin!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh! I thought I wouldn't get this finished before S6 started, and I was cutting it a little bit fine! Anyway, here we are. 
> 
> Oh yeah, and the rating went up. Imagine that :)

Rumple stumbled, throwing an arm out to steady himself against the nearest solid object as the deep red plume of his magic faded.  He blinked, his breath coming hard in his chest, his fingers clinging to the smooth wood of a desk.  The library.  Of course.  He heard the rapid click of heels, and Belle appeared in front of him, glaring, her fists clenched at her sides, beautiful in her wild fury.

“Belle!” he said, his voice a little hoarse.

“Don’t you ‘Belle’ me, you bastard!” she snapped.  “You took your heart out, didn’t you?  Regina told me!”

He straightened up, frowning at her outburst.

“Regina needs to start minding her own business,” he said coldly.

“Answer me!” she almost shouted.  “Did you take your heart out?  When you said those - those _things_ to me?”

His mouth worked, but he saw no reason to lie.

“Yes,” he said simply, and she shook her head, her frustration evident.

“Why?” she asked.  “Why would you _do_ that?”

“Because it hurts!” he snapped.  “Why the hell do you think?”

“Oh, so it’s okay for _me_ to be hurt by what _you_ said, but you don’t have the balls to face it yourself?” she demanded.

Rumple glared at her, thrusting his hand into his chest to pull his heart free.  He held it up to her, and the heart sat in the palm of his hand, its warm, red glow illuminating his skin.

“I’m facing it now,” he said coldly.  “I put this back just before you called me.  Is that acceptable to you, Belle?  Am I suffering enough?”

“I’m not saying that I want you to suffer!” she objected, and he let out a dry chuckle.

“Really?  My my, then it must be a happy coincidence.”

“Oh, put your bloody heart back in!” she snapped, waving a hand at him.  “I’m not in the mood for your sarcasm and I refuse to fight with you if you’re gonna be a - a - an unfeeling arse!”

Rumple shoved the heart back into his chest, grimacing at the pain of it.

“I took it out because I knew I didn’t have the strength to say what I needed to with it in,” he said, his jaw tight with anger.  “If that makes me an unfeeling arse I really don’t care.  You wanted honesty from me and you got it.”

Belle turned away from him for a moment before spinning back, biting her lip and looking upset.

“So you meant it then?” she asked.  “You meant those things you said to me?”

“I meant every word of it!” he said coldly.  “I’m serious, Belle.  Until you accept that you like that darker part of me, you’ll never be able to accept me.”

“I don’t _like the darker part of you_!” she snapped.  “I don’t understand why you’d say that!  It’s not true!”

“It’s the truth and you know it!” he said with finality.  “If you deigned to study our relationship and your so-called friendships in any detail you’d recognise that you’re repeatedly drawn to people with darkness in them.”

Her eyes widened with outrage.

“I am _not_!”

“Of course you are,” he said dismissively.  “I used to think it was because you felt you could help them, like you helped me, but I think the truth is that you like it.  Maybe it makes you feel better about yourself, I don’t know.  The desire to be a hero is never something I’ve had much experience with.”

“You bastard!”  

Her hands opened and closed, her cheeks flushing with anger, her eyes sparking.  Gods, she’d never been more beautiful.  He tried to keep himself cold, walled off from her, his love for her locked up tight, but it was so difficult when she was standing there, her chest heaving with indignation, her beauty almost enough to make him weep.

“Well, I can’t think of any other reason why you’d want to hang around with the pirate,” he added.  “It’s not as though he’s good for anything much apart from trailing around after Emma and failing to kill me.”

“I am not _hanging around_ with him!” she said.  “He offered to let me stay on the ship, that’s all!  It’s not as though we made bloody friendship bracelets for each other!”

“Really?”  He rolled his eyes.  “And here I thought you two seemed so close.”

Belle sighed, folding her arms beneath her breasts and glowering at him.

“Look, I’m well aware Killian isn’t perfect,” she said.  “But…”

“I’m trying to think of the many redemptive gestures he’s made but I seem to be drawing a blank,” he interrupted, lifting a finger.  “But then my memory’s not what it was.  Resurrection and torture left it kind of fuzzy around the edges.”

“He’s trying to be better for Emma!” she insisted, and he chuckled again.

“How, exactly?” he asked.  “What has he done, pray tell?  I mean after he changed his mind at the last moment about killing us all?”  

“He was the Dark One then!” she protested, and he stared at her incredulously.

“And I’m the Dark One now,” he said.  “I’ve been the Dark One for almost all the time you’ve known me.  And yet everyone gets a free pass but me.”

“No one’s getting a free anything!” she snapped.  “I’m just choosing to see the best in people, that’s all.”

“Oh, I get that, don’t you worry!” he shot back.  “Everyone who isn’t me, of course.  Hook, Emma, Regina, Zelena.  Tell me, is there anyone you’re friends with that _hasn’t_ tried to kill you?”

“Oh, how many bloody times, I am _not_ friends with Zelena!” she sighed.  “I’m not sure I’d say that I’m friends with any of them, to be honest.  Snow, maybe.  Henry.”

“And yet you chose to live on that ship,” he said, his voice flat.  “Rather than with me.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore, because I’m moving tomorrow,” she said loftily.  “I’m going to the convent until after the baby’s born.  It makes sense.”

Rumple’s eyes narrowed, dark fire in his gaze, and Belle felt a familiar, traitorous lurch in her belly.  She tamped it down, tried to quench it.

“You’re what?” he asked dangerously, and she lifted her chin, wishing he didn’t look so bloody good.  Wishing his voice, that low growl of anger, didn’t make her want to kiss him.

“The convent,” she said boldly.  “I’m going to stay with the fairies.  They can help with the baby.”

“Over my dead body!” he spat, one hand slicing through the air in a cutting motion, as though he could sever any ties she might make with a simple gesture.

“Oh, don’t be so bloody dramatic!” she snapped, fists on hips.  “I don’t know why you’re so antagonistic towards people who have only ever tried to help!”

“The Blue Fairy is the reason I lost Bae in the first fucking place!” he shouted.  “If it wasn’t for her he would never have been sent to this land!”

“It was Bae that asked her for help!” she snapped back.  “You told me that.  You told me you let go of his hand when the portal opened!  I know how much you regretted it, Rumple, but how is it Blue’s fault?”

“She wanted me _gone_!” he spat.  “She wanted to rid the realm of the Dark One, and she used my son to do it!  If you think I can just forgive that…”

“I’m not asking you to!”  Belle glared at him.  “I’m telling you that that’s where I’m going to be staying!”

His jaw clenched, and he turned away, lifting a hand and letting it fall before spinning back to her with a frustrated expression.

“And the reason you won’t come home with me is..?”

“I’ve _told_ you!” she snapped.  “I don’t want the Dark One influencing our child, it’s too risky!”

“So it’s fine for others to use magic, just not for me to?” he asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.  “Well, I suppose those double standards won’t just create themselves, will they?  Clearly it’s taken some effort on your part.”

“God, you’re being an arsehole!” she shouted.  “I don’t have _double standards_!  I want you to use the power for _good_ , like the fairies do!  How is that double standards?”

“Because you want me to change who I am on the most basic level!”  He threw up his hands, glaring at her.  “You hold me to some impossible ideal that no one else in this town ever has a hope of meeting, and yet you expect it of the Dark One!”

“I expect you to be the man I know you truly are, Rumple!” she pleaded.  “I _know_ you’re flawed, I accept that!  I just want you to be honest with me!”

“I’m _being_ honest with you!”  His eyes flashed with anger.

“No you’re _not_!”  She stamped her foot in frustration.  “You’re telling me you can’t change, and I don’t believe that!  I’ve _seen_ the good you can do!  You can be that man again, I know it!”

“I can’t be what you think you want, Belle!”  He paced back and forth, frustration twisting his features, making him grimace.  “You always said you loved all of me.  When did that change?”

“When the man I loved changed,” she countered.  “When you let the darkness take over.”

“The darkness was always there,” he said impatiently.  “Always.  You married the Dark One, Belle.  I don’t love you any less with the Dark Curse inside me.”

“You _lied_ to me!” she shouted, the pain and betrayal she had stored up for so many months bursting out of her.  “All that time, all through our marriage, you were _lying_ to me!  You gave me a fake dagger, made me think you trusted me, and it was all _lies_!”

“And the moment you got the real dagger you used it to bloody _control_ me!” he shot back, furious.  “Can’t you see how that killed me?  My true love taking away my free will, throwing me out of town with only the clothes on my back?”

“I didn’t have a choice!” she almost wept.  “You were killing people, Rumple!  I had to do something!”

“Yes, Hook’s life was more important to you than my sanity!” he said sarcastically.  “You’ve made that perfectly clear, Belle.”

“It wasn’t just about him!” she protested.  “It was what you did to the fairies, to Emma!  Gods, Rumple, we’d only been engaged for five minutes when you killed Zelena…”

“Zelena killed my _son_!” he thundered.  “She kept me in a cage like a fucking _dog_!  She _tortured_ me, she…”

He cut off, looking away from her, and she wanted to reach for him, to comfort him.  He shook his head, his mouth working as he seemed to search for the words.

“I sacrificed myself for those I love,” he said bitterly.  “For you and Bae.  For Henry.  It was _over_ , Belle.  I was _done_.  The power went with me, and you were safe.”

“I know,” she whispered.  “I remember.”  

“And then I’m dragged back into this world,” he went on.  “Into a nightmare I can’t wake from.  A nightmare in which everything I sought to protect is in danger.”

“Rumple…” she whispered, desperately sad for him.  She reached out, wanting to touch him, and he shied away as though it would burn.

“Then Zelena’s defeated,” he said more calmly.  “The nightmare’s over.  I get my freedom back, and what happens?  Regina controls me with the dagger to stop me from killing her.   _You_ make me _promise_ not to kill her.”

“I was thinking of _you_!” she pleaded.  “I didn’t want you to darken your soul any further!  Not over her!  You’re better than that!”

“That wasn’t your decision to make!” he snapped.  “You backed me into a corner, Belle!  What the hell did you expect?”

“You killed her anyway,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Well, it didn’t fucking stick, did it?” he said sarcastically.  “And now I have to see her swanning around Storybrooke, suddenly everyone’s new best friend, all because Regina wants to play nice with the woman who tried to kill her.”

“Regina wants family,” she said wearily.  “I don’t blame her for that.”

He chuckled dryly.  “Don’t we all?”

“Yes!” she said, taking a step forward.  “That’s my _point_ , Rumple!  I want what’s best for my family.  That means for you as well as for our baby!”

“I did what you asked!” he hissed, his eyes flashing.  “You told me to do whatever it took to save our child, and I _did_ that!  I woke you from the curse you were foolish enough to cast, the curse your own father was happy to leave you in for eternity!  And yet for reasons I’m not sure I understand you’re angry with me rather than him.”

“I spoke to him about that,” she insisted.  “I was angry, of course I was, but I’ve forgiven him, Rumple.”

“But you can’t forgive me,” he said bitterly, and shook a finger as she opened her mouth.  “And don’t look at me like that!  You haven’t and you bloody well know it!  That’s what this is all about.  I love you, Belle, but if you’re going to keep punishing me for the things I did in the past then there’s no hope for us.”

“You _lied_ to me!” she protested.  “You were going to _kill_ people, was I just supposed to let that happen?  Was I supposed to let you just destroy yourself like that?”

 _“I’m sorry!”_ he shouted.  “How many fucking times do I have to say it?  I _know_ it was wrong!  I _know_ I crossed a line, Belle!  I’m not apologising for Hook, but I am sorry about what I tried to do to Emma.  I was bloody desperate and I couldn’t see another way out!”

“There’s always another way,” she said stubbornly.  “There has to be.   No one should take killing another so lightly, that’s the Dark One talking.”

“This is _me_!” he hissed, jabbing a thumb at his chest.  “Like it or hate it, Belle, this is who I am.  And let’s not pretend I’m the only person in this town who’s ever killed someone!”

“Emma killing Cruella was different…” she began.

“Well, it would be, wouldn’t it?” he sneered.  “It’s always different when it’s someone else.  There’s always a reason you can find for them. When the Saviour acts to protect her son it’s heroic.  When I act to protect you, or to free myself from the thing that controlled me, it’s evil.”

“I’ve _never_ called you that!”

He paced back and forth, scowling, and she raised her hands and let them fall against her legs with a faint slap, her frustration rising.

“Why didn’t you just _talk_ to me?” she pleaded.

“Because you didn’t want to bloody _hear_ it!” he shouted.  “ _None_ of you wanted to hear it!  I was kept in a cage in my own fucking castle eating whatever swill Zelena forced me to for months, and the only time I see another living _soul_ is when the “heroes” want something from me!”  

His fingers hooked in savage air-quotes, his face twisted with anger, with bitterness.

“And when they got what they wanted...”  He gestured extravagantly, flicking his fingers away from him as though he was ridding himself of something loathsome.  “They fucking well left me there like - like I was an _animal_!”

“I wanted to free you,” she began.  “I wanted to help, but…”

“You couldn’t do it alone,” he finished.  “I know that.  You needed the others, and they didn’t care enough to help.  I owe them _nothing_!”

“And me?” she asked sadly.

He turned away, walking slowly towards the circulation desk, his back to her.  He didn’t respond, and she wanted to stamp her foot in frustration.  He was always so closed off, so private.  Telling her nothing, internalising everything.  How had she ever thought that she might get close to him?  That he might trust her enough, that he might let her in.  Let her help.  The silence between them stretched and grew, becoming thick and oppressive, and she tried to think of a way to break it, to reach him.  A memory flitted into her head, a memory of him sitting quietly in the Dark Castle, nimble fingers turning the spinning wheel while she watched from her place by the fire, a book in her hands.  A simpler time.  They had been happy. Against all the odds, they had been happy.  Until his fear had pulled him from her.  His desperation to hold onto the power that corrupted him.  A fear that she could have eased if he had only _talked_ to her.

“You don’t spin anymore,” she said, and he leant on the desk, hands poised on splayed fingers.

“No,” he said quietly.

“You said - you said once that it helped you forget,” she added.

“Well, that was before,” he said dryly.  “Now it just helps me remember.  I don’t want to remember, Belle, do you understand?”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat, wishing she could help him.  Wishing he’d look at her.

“What happened to you?” she asked softly.  “What happened to the man I fell in love with?”

His head slumped forwards, his shoulders hunching, as though to ward off invisible blows.

“He died,” he whispered.  “He died a long time ago, in the midst of a snowfall in a far-off land.  And in a cage, cowering in the dirt.  Over and over, he died.”

“Oh, Rumple!” she said sadly.  “Don’t say that.  Please don’t.”

“She took my son from me,” he said, in that low, eerily calm voice.  “My Baelfire died, Belle, and she _laughed_.  He was buried in the cold ground, and she mocked me as I wept.  She had to die.  But she's alive, and my boy is dead.  Fate has a weird fucking sense of humour.”

Tears pricked her eyes, her lip trembling at the pain in his voice.  She reached for him, wanting to touch him, to comfort him.  To feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers as she had so many times.  But he was still standing with his back to her, still shutting her out, and she let her hand fall to her side once more, the moment gone.

“I’m so sorry,” she said gently.  “I know how much you loved him.”

“Part of me died that day, Belle,” he said quietly.  “I’m not the same man.  I never could be.  But if you think I would let any harm come to our baby, you’re mistaken.  I won’t lose another child.”

“I know you’d do everything in your power to keep the baby safe,” she said, after a pause.  “But I don’t want you to lose yourself in the process, don’t you see that?  After what happened with Emma, with the fairies…”

“Oh Belle, I was trying to get rid of the dagger!” he said pleadingly, turning to face her.  “I never wanted to be controlled again, can’t you understand that?”

She dropped her eyes, fidgeting a little.  

“Yes,” she admitted.  “I do understand.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut, and she thought how tired he looked.  She wondered whether he had slept at all since she had left.  Since he had taken back the power.  An image came to her, of him lying in their bed, the smooth skin of his chest gleaming in the moonlight, and she felt that lurch in her belly again, that tug of desire that made her heart thump.  He flicked his eyes up to meet hers, the light gleaming on his hair, and she felt her breath catch in her throat at the intensity in his gaze.

“The power is a weapon,” he said quietly.  “I admit that.  We all have our weapons, Belle.  Yours are your books, your intelligence, your bloody pig-headed refusal to give up.  I love every bit of you, so why can’t you admit the same about me?  Because others tell you it’s wrong?  Because a hero shouldn’t love a monster?”

“Because I want you to value your marriage more than your power,” she said insistently.  “Because I know you’re better than that.  You’re so much more than the Dark One, Rumple.  You always have been, and yet this power, this - this dark entity that was slowly killing you - that’s what your magical gauntlet led me to.  That’s the thing you love most.  Don’t you understand how much that hurt?”

He sighed deeply, letting his head roll back as though he had just realised something.

“Oh, Belle, the gauntlet leads to a person’s greatest weakness,” he said wearily.  “In _most_ cases that’s the thing they love most, but I don’t love the power more than you.  The dagger is my weakness.  You were always my strength.”

She blinked, rocking back on her heels.  All this time, she had thought…  She shook her head, more questions forming in her mind with this revelation.

“But if it’s your weakness, why do you _want_ it?” she asked.  “You don’t _need_ the power, Rumple, you’ve shown that!”

He shook his head, his face drawn with sadness, with regret.

“And what was I without it?” he asked.  “Nothing.  Nothing you wanted, anyway.”

“You were a good man,” she said sadly, and his lip curled.

“You still left.”

Her breath hitched, the pain of his accusation stabbing her in the chest.  

“Oh, that’s not fair!”

“It’s the truth,” he said, his voice calm.  “I had no power.  No darkness.  I pulled Excalibur from the stone, got Merida her heart back, did what a hero does.  I was everything you claimed to want, right up until you had it.  That’s why I know you like the darkness.”

“I _don’t_!”  She glared at him, and her anger seemed to amuse him, a tiny smile tugging the corner of his mouth upwards.

“You do.”  He took a step towards her, the timbre of his voice dropping, making her abdomen clench.  “You like my darkness, Belle.”

“I…”  She licked her lips, her breath catching.  “I might _tolerate_ it, but that’s not the same thing.”

He smirked, his eyes glinting.  “No indeed.  But that’s not what you do.”

His eyes were very dark in the lamplight, and she could feel the heat in his gaze, that pull of desire, that electricity that had always been between them, ever since the first.  For a moment she wondered if what he said was true, if she really did love the darkness in him, and she shoved the thought away ruthlessly.

“Stop it!” she snapped.  “Stop - stop _looking_ at me like that!”

“Like what?”  

He ran his eyes over her, raw hunger in his gaze, and she gave him a flat look.

“You _know_ what,” she said.  “Like I’m - like I’m on the bloody _menu_!”

“Well, you are delicious, sweetheart,” he said, smirking again.  “And it’s been some time since I ate.  As I recall you rather enjoyed being dinner.”

Belle flushed.

“Just because we’re fighting doesn’t mean I’m going to fall into bed with you, you know,” she said.  “I’m not just - just gonna _forget_ what’s between us for a moment of passion.”

“I’d be disappointed if you did,” he said, with a grin.  “Although I was thinking more along the lines of an entire evening.”

“Rumple…” she said warningly, and he sighed.

“You wanted honesty from me,” he said.  “And yet you can’t be honest with yourself about how you feel.  Why is that?  Why are you ashamed of it?”

She stomped up to him, her jaw protruding as she glared at him.

“I am _not_ ashamed!” she spat.  “I’ve _never_ been ashamed of you!”

“Not of me, no,” he agreed.  “Just of what you feel for me.  What you feel for the Dark One.  That’s not what a hero does, is it?”

She closed her eyes, biting her lip, and when she looked up at him he was staring down at her with that softness he had always had when he looked at her.  It made her want to cry, and she was heartily sick of crying.

“A hero does what’s _right_ ,” she whispered, repeating Archie’s words.

“A hero fights for those they love,” he said.  “And for those that can’t defend themselves.  Heroes are allowed to make mistakes, Belle.”

“I know that.”  Her lip trembled.  “Gods, I’m tired, Rumple.  I’m tired of - of _fighting_ the whole time.  Why can’t things just be peaceful?  Why can’t they be perfect?  Why can’t we have that, for once?”

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, and cupped her cheek with a tender hand.  “I love you.  I love every part of you.  You don’t have to be perfect.  No one has to be perfect.  No one _can_ be.”

She leaned into his touch, his palm warm on her skin, and his thumb stroked over her lower lip.  Her hands reached up to sit at his waist, and she wanted to tug him closer, to press herself into his body and kiss him and run her fingers over the firm lines of his chest.  She could smell the scent of him, that familiar spiciness that she wanted to pull deep into her lungs and fill up her soul.  Glancing upwards, she could see where his stubble was starting to come through, glinting silver and gold in the light of the lamps, and she badly wanted to kiss him.  His pulse was thumping in his throat, a heavy throb beneath his skin, and she could feel desire for him rising and swelling within her, her breath quickening.  His eyes were dark pools, the pupils wide and deep, and she could see the rise and fall of his chest beneath the silk shirt he wore.  She felt love for him burn through her, and with it, she was finally ready to admit what she had tried for so long to suppress.

“I do love you,” she whispered.  “I love all of you, Rumple.  Even the parts that belong to the darkness.  And - and sometimes it scares me.  It scares me what you might do.  What you’re capable of.  It scares me that part of me is drawn to that.”

He lifted his other hand, cupping her face, his fingers sliding into the hair at the nape of her neck and making her shiver.

“I know,” he breathed.  “I know that, sweetheart.”

“It - it scares me that maybe I have darkness in me too,” she said, the words tumbling from her.  “What happened with Gaston - I didn’t mean to do it!”

“I know.”  He pressed his lips to her forehead.  “I know, love.  I’m so sorry.”

“I’m - I’m scared that maybe I’ll get used to it,” she whispered, hating the admission.  “That being a good person won’t matter to me anymore.  That - that I won’t think of what’s _right_ , just what’s easiest.”

“Like me?”  His smile was wry, and she reached up to touch him, stroking her fingers through the short growth of his hair, feeling it run between her fingers.

“You can be a good man, Rumple,” she said softly, and he smiled, his eyes crinkling.

“You made me a better man,” he said.  “But I’m never gonna be truly good.”

“I’m not sure that anyone is ever truly good,” she said hesitantly.  “Perhaps - perhaps it’s just a case of being the best that you can.”

He let out a sigh, pressing his forehead to hers, his breath cool on her face, and she wanted him, wanted to kiss him and touch him.  To lose herself in his arms for a night and forget the pain and mistrust that was still there between them.

“I can promise to try,” he said at last.  “I can try, Belle, but I won’t always succeed.  You have to know that.”

“I want you to talk to me, not try to hide things from me,” she said.  “Maybe - maybe if you talk to Archie, as well.  He said he’d be happy to see you.  To see both of us.”

“Therapy?”  He wrinkled his nose, but sighed again at her glare.  “Fine.  I’m not against the idea.  Dr Hopper is actually someone whose presence I can stand, unlike the rest of...”

“Shut up, Rumple.”

She slid her hands up his chest, gripping the lapels of his jacket, and pulled him close, reaching up to kiss him.  Her lips pushed his apart, her tongue gently slipping into his mouth, and she moaned as his hands sank into her hair, sending shivers through her.  His tongue stroked against hers, soft lips grown slippery with saliva, and he pushed her back against the desk, hands grasping her, lifting her up so that she could wrap her legs around him, so that he could hold her close.  She pulled her mouth from his with a gasp as she felt the hardness of him press up against her.  He kissed down her neck, his lips pulling at her skin, and she let out a tiny cry as he sank his teeth into her.  His hands swept down her body, moving over the curves of her hips and into the hollow of her waist, and she plucked open the button of his jacket, pushing it from his shoulders and down his arms as she breathed in his scent.

“I missed you!” she whispered.  “I miss your touch, Rumple.  I miss the way you feel.”

“I missed you too,” he murmured, and swept his tongue over her pulse, making her shudder in pleasure.  “Come home with me, Belle.”

“I can’t.”  She shook her head, moaning as he squeezed her breast.  “Not yet, I’m not ready.”

She expected him to pull away then, but he didn’t, running his tongue up the length of her throat to slip into her mouth, his hands squeezing her.  Encouraged, she pulled open the buttons of his waistcoat, pushing it from him and sliding her hands over his chest, his skin hot beneath the red silk.  Her hands crept up to his tie, tugging it open and sliding it from around his neck, and he pulled back a little, his lips hovering over hers, his eyes suddenly anxious.

“You know this won’t solve anything,” he whispered.

“I know.”  She caressed his face.  “I know it won’t, but I need you.  Is that - is that okay?”

He smiled: a tiny, sad smile, and kissed her again, his lips soft against hers before he drew back.

“I need you too,” he admitted, and she nodded.

“Then can you magic up a bed or something?”

His smile widened, and he flicked a hand behind him, turning the tables into a large, canopied bed hung with red and gold brocade drapes and made up with silk sheets.  Belle swallowed as she recognised his bed from the Dark Castle.  If they had only communicated better, she might have shared it long ago.

The sheets smelt of cedarwood, soft silk smooth against her skin as they undressed each other, as she unbuttoned his shirt to bare his chest, her fingers moving over him, thumbs rubbing over the darkened circles of his nipples, sliding down to tug open his belt.  He peeled the dress from her and unhooked her bra, his mouth warm and wet against the smooth mounds of her breasts, and Belle moaned as he kissed his way down over the soft curve of her belly.  He pressed his lips tenderly against her, as though he could already feel his child there, and the gesture made her want to cry again.  She stroked his head with gentle fingers, silver hair rippling, and he glanced up at her with a smile before continuing down to kiss her mound through the cotton panties she wore.  His fingers slowly slipped beneath them, pulling her underwear over her hips, his tongue painting wet circles on her skin, and she let out a cry as he tasted her, as he swept his tongue through her tender flesh.

Rumple let his tongue swirl against her, inhaling her scent, letting it fill his head.  She tasted incredible, as good as she always had, and he gently slipped a finger inside her, the flat of his tongue sliding through her folds, her silken walls gripping him tightly as he brushed the pad of his thumb over her clit.  Belle moaned, her thighs squeezing him, and he increased the pace, sliding another finger into her and making her throw her head back with a groan as he worked her towards climax.  She came with a long, moaning cry, her hips bucking against him, and he gently pulled his fingers from her, sucking the white threads of her cum from them, a low groan of pleasure rumbling deep inside him.

She was trying to catch her breath, her chest heaving, and he kissed his way back up her body, pushing himself up on his elbows and smiling down at her as her eyes fluttered open.  Reaching up, she cupped his cheek, her thumb rasping against the stubble that had grown there, and he bent to kiss her, loving the feel of her body moulding to his, the softness of her breasts pushing against him and the way she seemed to fit him perfectly, just as she always had.

Belle kissed him hungrily, his lips sweet and musky with the scent of her pleasure, his tongue stroking against hers.  She slipped a hand down between them to grasp him, making him hiss a whispered curse into her mouth, and opened her legs wider, lifting her knees so that he could press up against her.  He pulled his mouth from hers with a soft, wet sound, his breath coming hard, his eyes dark with lust, and she felt a thrill go through her at the sight of him, at this powerful creature almost undone by her.  His hand reached between them, lining them up, and she nodded fiercely as he lifted a brow at her.  She wanted him.  She wanted him so much it hurt.

Rumple pushed slowly inside her, and she arched her body with a moan, pulling her knees higher and letting him slide deeper, letting him fill her.  She reached up to card his hair with her fingers again, getting used to its new short length, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips, and he looked down at her with that same expression of devotion he had always worn for her.  He loved her, she knew it.  And she loved him. Every bit of him.  The dark as well as the light.  She loved him, man and beast, in all his sneaky, frustrating, infuriating brilliance.  Her one true love.  The father of her child.  She loved him.

He slid his hands up her body, gently pushing her arms above her head and threading his fingers through hers as he kissed her, and she moaned into his mouth at the feel of it, of being pinned beneath him as he thrust into her in slow, gentle movements, his hips moving in circles, grinding against her and making her see stars.  She wrapped her legs around him, gripping him tightly, her tongue sweeping delicately around the inner slopes of his lips, their mouths hot and wet.  She could feel herself tensing, her climax building, and he released her hands, letting her slip them around him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as her breathing hardened.  He quickened the pace a little, still moving in that long, grinding motion that was sending her wild, and she moved against him, increasing the friction, pulling at his flesh as he moved inside her.

Rumple wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close against him as he felt her tense beneath him, her muscles tightening.  He was close himself, but held it off, wanting her to take her pleasure first, wanting to feel her come around him.  He drew his tongue up the side of her neck, sucking the earlobe into his mouth, and she came with a high, ululating cry, jerking in his arms, clenching around him and pulling him with her.  Coloured lights burst in his vision as he followed her over the edge, a deep groan vibrating through him as he came inside her in thick spurts.

Belle clung to him as he pushed his face into her neck, breathing hard.  Her entire body was tingling, her mouth dry, and she licked her lips as she tried to catch her breath.  For a moment there was silence except for their breathing, and then he pushed himself up on his elbows, looking down on her with a familiar lazy, sated smile.  He also looked a little smug, which she supposed was warranted.  He brushed a curl of hair back from her face, his touch tender, and kissed her gently.

“I love you, Belle,” he whispered, and she stroked his hair.

“I know.  I love you too.”

He nodded, still caressing her gently with those long fingers of his.

“I know we’re not okay,” he said quietly.  “I know we still have things to talk through.  A lot of things.”

“Yeah.”  She swept a thumb over his lower lip, feeling him shrinking inside her, the pleasure of his touch still lingering.  “But not tonight.  We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, and kissed her again.  “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” she said softly.  “I want you to stay.”

His smile widened, his body shifting a little as he slipped out of her.  It might take him a little time to recover, of course, but they had all night to get reacquainted.  And from what she could remember of all the times they had shared a bed, there were definite perks to the Dark Curse.  A wicked gleam in his eyes told her that he remembered it too.  She only hoped that she had the stamina to match his own.

 

00000

 

Rumple slept well for the first time since he had taken back the curse.  Admittedly it wasn’t for very long - an hour or so - but it was more than pleasant to wake beside Belle, to hold her close and listen to her even breathing.  He slipped quietly from the bed as the sun rose, scooping his clothes off the floor and dressing with as little noise as he could manage.

“Time is it?” murmured Belle, and he looked around as he shrugged on his waistcoat.

“Early,” he said softly.  “Go back to sleep, I’ll bring you breakfast.”

She burrowed back down in the bedclothes, and he looped his tie around his neck, tying it with a practised hand.  Noise outside the library made him furrow his brow, and he sighed as he saw movement outside the double doors.   _Great.  Just fucking great._

“Well, wherever he is, he can damn well listen!” Regina snapped as she pushed open the door.  

She blinked, coming to a stop and rocking back on her heels as she locked eyes with him, Snow and Emma thumping into her back.

“Gold, what the hell are you doing here?” she demanded, and he offered her a thin smile, glancing over his shoulder at the bed, from which Belle was staring with huge eyes, blankets pulled up to her chin.

“Well, I would have thought that was obvious,” he said dryly, drawing on his jacket.  “Perhaps you could give us some privacy before you tell me of the latest crack-brained scheme you’ve thought up.”

“Oh dear God…”  Emma backed towards the door, pulling Henry with her.  The others followed her.

“Wait!” said Regina sharply, and turned back to him, folding her arms.  “Since you’re here, I may as well tell you.  I’ve considered what you said, and - I’m willing to try it.”

Rumple showed his teeth.  “Excellent,” he said.  “I wish you well.  Good luck merging with your darker half, dearie, I’m sure the two of you will have a lot of fun getting to know one another again.”

“You could help,” said Emma bluntly.  “Instead of locking yourself away in your shop you could actually use the dark power you were so desperate to take back to help us.”

“And when you have something for me to do that I would actually find interesting, do come and knock on my door,” he said.  “Regina knows what she needs to do, she doesn’t need my help.  You’re on your own with Hyde.  Do enjoy that knotty little problem, won’t you?”

He made to move past them, buttoning his jacket.

“Gold…” began Regina, and he spun on his toes to face her.

“Regina dear, why don’t you and Miss Swan just admit you’re completely in love with one another and stop pretending?” he said impatiently.  “I’m sure we’d all be relieved.”  He eyed Hook.  “Possibly not you, but I couldn’t give a damn, personally.”

Henry snorted in amusement, and Regina stared at him, mouth open.

“I - w- _what_?” she stuttered.

Emma’s face was like stone, but a tide of pink was flushing her cheeks, rising up through her face as she very pointedly looked at a spot over his shoulder.  Regina shot her a sidelong look, and Emma gave her a quick, furtive glance.

“As I thought,” said Rumple, with a self-satisfied grin.  “Henry, lad, talk some sense into your mothers.  They’re both far too stubborn to make the first move.”

“Maybe dinner at Granny’s,” piped up Henry, and Belle stifled a giggle.

“I’ll leave you to make the arrangements,” said Rumple dryly.  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to fetch breakfast for my wife.”

He strode from the library, the morning air cool in his nose, the wind ruffling his hair, and a tiny smile on his face.  They were not okay.  They were pretty far from okay.  But for the first time in months, he thought they could be.


End file.
